


At The Salon

by no_reason_or_rhyme



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Falling In Love, M/M, Nail Polish, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-03-24 15:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13813827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_reason_or_rhyme/pseuds/no_reason_or_rhyme
Summary: Otabek Altin is finishing up his studies in marketing, but that doesn't stop him from working part time for his mother's nail salon. After a couple of years of manicures and pedicures, Otabek comes across a young man named Yuri Plisetsky. His new client is very expressive and amusing.... which is why he's more than happy to see him walk in every Saturday morning at 8:00AM sharp.





	1. Everyone Is Beautiful At The Salon

Otabek walked into the office that morning feeling refreshed from the full four hours of sleep he’d gotten the previous night. Carol stared at him, smiling the smallest of smiles as she saw her own son approach the welcome desk.

“You know,” she said handing his schedule. “You don’t have to keep coming here every Saturday. I know you have hobbies.”

“I need the money,” Otabek replied.

Brief to a fault, he looked so out of place in this nail salon. Most customers enjoyed his presence, but the general image he had was that of a serious boy going through a soul searching phase. It was a shame DJing was a tough world to break through. But his mother owned one of the second largest nail salons in town and, peeking at his time sheet, tips might be good today.

Being the mother that she was, Carol always gave him the male clients. Most of them only required pedicures and manicures but sometimes, they indulged. Otabek didn’t really care whether or not he had a man or a woman sitting in front of him. He just wanted to get through the day. Some clients suggested he listened to his own music if the silence ever made him uncomfortable. Most of his clients had earphones in when he was working. For the most part, it didn’t interfere with the work. Instead of saying things he’d gently tap the top of their hands to indicate they needed to move and they would do so.

Some people stared more, others didn’t in the slightest. Otabek had seen it all and at this point was not bothered by anything.

He picked his spot, the one the furthest away from the entrance, hidden behind the water dispenser. It was half closed off to the rest of the world and offered some level of privacy. While he was setting up, he briefly skimmed over the schedule. He saw a couple of regulars and then a new name right on top of the list.

_Yuri Plisetsky._

Otabek hung the schedule on his wall, just how he always did. He liked knowing his standings at all time. It’s not that he particularly hated his part time job, he just felt underappreciated.

He heard the synthetic sound of a bell ringing and he knew that his first client was here. It was 8:00 AM sharp and Yuri Plisetsky was being led to his station.

“Otabek will be taking care of you,” Carol said, waving in the general direction of her son.

Otabek wasn’t sure what to think of what was before him. It was definitely male, but it wore leopard print custom gucci shoes. He was tall enough, but his blond hair was tied on top of his head in a loose bun so that might have added a few centimeters. He wore tailored black dress pants and a purple blazer, but there was the large print of a tiger’s head on the shirt beneath. It was not sunny out, but he wore his sunglasses in like a hotshot.

Yuri Plisetsky was the first to react, taking off his sunglasses and setting them on top of his head. He looked angry. But Otabek had yet to learn that Yuri was the very definition of resting bitchface.

In a rather brusque and flashy manner, Yuri extended his hand towards the older man and Otabek shook it without hesitation.

“Yuri Plisetsky,” he said. There was a hint of irritation in his voice. Still, it didn’t stop him from being courteous. “I’ll be in your care today.”

Otabek nodded and showed him to his chair. Otabek took his own seat across the table and took a first customer sheet from the drawer to his right.

“What is that for?” Yuri asked as Otabek took the lid off a pen with his mouth.

“The salon wants to make sure that every client has the best possible experience, therefore, I have to write down some information. This will only take a few minutes.”

Otabek looked up to stare at his client. Yuri’s eyebrows were raised. Otabek couldn’t tell it was annoyance or just genuine surprise.

“Are you going to ask me questions?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” Otabek said filling out the name section. “It’s just about preferences in general.”

“Preferences,” Yuri scoffed. Otabek looked up again to find him smirking.

Otabek’s expression remained blank and he figured that this was probably the youngest client he’d ever had. He put the pen down and slid the paper to the side.

“What can I do for you?” Otabek said.

Yuri leaned back, the smirk suddenly disappearing from his face. He seemed to appear thoughtful, like he wasn’t sure at all. Like he’d just walked in here on a whim.

_And boy… what luck._

“Well you see,” Yuri leaned forward this time, finally closing the distance between them and getting serious. “I have a competition coming up soon. I’d like for my nails to...blend in.”

“I understand,” Otabek said. He’d had all kinds of people come in with all kind of jobs. Though he was curious about the competition aspect, Otabek wasn’t someone who pried in anyone’s business.

Yuri still had that serious expression as he stared at his nails. “I’m thinking maybe a dark shade of purple. Or blue.”

Wordlessly, he pulled out a palette of nails and pointed towards the darkest purples and blues he owned. Yuri leaned even closer, staring intently at the array of colors in front of him.

“Perhaps,” he said his finger hovering dark indigo blue. “But… it lacks something.”

Otabek reached in his drawer again, taking out the glitter palettes. He pointed towards the smallest grain of glitter. Yuri’s eyebrows knit together before he unleashed something between a yelp and a squeal. It was not very feminine, nor very masculine. Otabek had a feeling that it was just very Yuri.

“A123 with a finish of G45,” Otabek went back to writing and then excused himself as he went to retrieve the colors he needed. As soon as he stepped out from his semi-private area, he noticed that everyone was watching him and his client closely.

Unphased, he went about his mission only to realise he’d forgotten to offer his client coffee and snacks. He quickly fixed that as he stuck the nail polish in his pockets to free his hands. Yuri looked surprised but not moved by the offer. He wanted coffee. With milk and sugar. Lots of sugar. And a muffin. A blueberry muffin.

Otabek nodded and walked away to get what was requested. His mother approached him, asking him if everything was ok. He said they had barely begun.

“But it’s Yuri Plisetsky,” she said.

Otabek looked at his mother with the blankest expression yet and she covered her face half in shame, half in adoration.

“He’s a famous dancer,” she explained.  
  
Otabek wanted to ask just what kind of dancer but he realised he was taking too long and decided to leave instead. Getting back to his station, he found Yuri Plisetsky scrolling through Instagram. Otabek set the hot drink and muffin in front of him and went back to his seat.

“Feel free to listen to music,” he said. “If you choose to do that however, please pay attention to my hands.”

“Your hands?” Yuri sounded annoyed again so Otabek looked up.

“I will tap your hands the hands that need to move,” Otabek explained.

“Ah,” Yuri seemed to relax a little. “There’s no need, I will be paying attention.”

“Very well,” Otabek slid his hand inside his jean jacket and got out the two bottles of nail polish that had been requested.

He heard Yuri snicker and looked up at his face again, curious. Yuri shook his head, apologetic. “I’m sorry, I just never thought I’d be seeing nailpolish come out of… such a man’s pocket today.”

Otabek lifted up his right hand and signaled for Yuri to hand him his own hand. Otabek saw the faintest of blush appear on Yuri’s face mixed in with surprise again. He hadn’t seen this many expressions on anyone else’s face before in such a short amount of time. It was amusing. Otabek was actually having fun. Yuri gave him his hand and Otabek grabbed it firmly. Yuri stretched out his fingers and Otabek started smoothing them out. The buzzing of the electric buffer was almost soothing after seeing so much emotion overcome someone’s face. Finger after finger, Otabek worked his way to the pinky of the left hand. Yuri’s hands started out cold, but as he kept working they became warmer. Otabek fought the urge of curiosity look up at Yuri’s expression and when he had an excuse to, he wish he had sooner.

Yuri looked fascinated, in complete awe. However, it changed the moment he was found out. He looked away quickly, his sunglasses almost slipping off.

Otabek grabbed the metal file sitting in the glass container next to him and proceeded to make the smooth nails all equal in in length.

Yuri didn’t speak and Otabek wasn’t at the stage where he had to ask a question. So he worked in silence and got the nails ready for the polish. When he straightened he heard a shift a shift of the chair across him and he looked up, curious.

Yuri lifted an eyebrow at him and didn’t say anything so Otabek grabbed the nail polish and started shaking the bottles. Yuri took his hands back to look at Otabek’s work until he did the same thing again; waving for his hand.

Yuri made an annoyed sound of sorts and Otabek looked at his face again. Yuri seemed to understand he was being odd but instead of making excuses he just looked away. He surrendered his hand to the older man.  
Otabek painted a straight line of polish across Yuri’s right thumbnail. “Is this ok?”

Yuri looked back at him, but instead of staring at his own hand he found himself staring at Otabek’s face.

“Why do you even work here?” Yuri found himself whispering. As soon as the words slipped out he seemed to regret them. It wasn’t the first time he’d been asked that question. He always said it was good money. But this time, he felt like that wasn’t quite true.

“I think I’m pretty good at it.”

Otabek held up Yuri’s hand slightly higher. “Is this what you had in mind?”

Yuri finally focused on his thumb and realised that the longer he let Otabek hold on to his hand like this, the more there were chances he would start sweating. So he concentrated on his thumb and the color. It was perfect.

“Yes, it is exactly what I want.”

Otabek nodded and settling Yuri’s hand back on the table he resumed his work. Yuri let out a small sigh and started drinking the coffee. He had barely touched the muffin yet but he had been fairly distracted.

This wasn’t how he pictured his day to start either. When he thought of a salon, he thought of cute, small girls chatting away as they painted cute colors on other girls. But this guy… this guy was anything but. He had the neatest uppercut he’d ever seen. He wore that denim jacket better than he ever could. His tshirt showed he worked out and his pants fit him snuggly enough to show he was probably some kind of athlete or gym enthusiast.

Yuri was captivated to say the least. Otabek’s hold on his hand was firm but gentle as he painted away. Soon he had the first coat on the right hand done. He slid Yuri’s hand under the LED light, leaving the gel to cure.

Yuri was distracted by the glowing light. It reminded him of stage lights. He heard Otabek clear his throat and he did that thing with his hand again where he motioned for him to hand it over.

_Why was it so hot?_

Yuri was too rough stretching out his left hand and nearly knocked the nail polish bottle over.

“Sorry,” Yuri said.

Otabek tilted his head to the side and Yuri found him staring. Their eyes met.

“Are you uncomfortable?” Otabek asked.

Before Yuri could make complete sense of what Otabek was asking, he clarified. “If you feel uncomfortable I can ask one of the girls to fill in for me…”

“No, no I don’t have issues with that!” Yuri interjected. “I don’t mean to stare.”

“So you have been staring,” Otabek commented. “I thought it was just me.”

“What… why are you staring so much?!” Yuri exclaimed, almost yanking his right hand out from under the light.

Otabek started working on his left hand again. Methodically, the strokes went up and down, up and down. He truly was good at this. The lines were straight and he never once hit the sides.

It took a few minutes for Yuri to realize that Otabek wasn’t going to answer.

“You don’t talk a lot, uh?” Yuri said.

Otabek kept working steadily as the familiar question rung in his ears. It was true. He wasn’t really the social type, but it’s not like he thought people were despicable. He just found it tiring to be around people all the time.

It was a while before he realized that Yuri was still waiting for his answer.

“No, not really.” He tapped Yuri’s right hand and Yuri slid it out and put the left one in. Without thinking he immediately handed him his right hand again. Otabek took it without hesitation and started adding the second coat.

“What is your name?” he asked.

Yuri finished the second coat before he answered. “Otabek Altin.”

Yuri thought he’d heard that name before, but he heard a lot of names in his profession and he worked hard on forgetting all of them. Only winners had a place in Yuri’s mind.

They didn’t speak much after that. Otabek went on carefully sliding the brush on Yuri’s nail until they were glowing like a clear summer night. It was just what he had had in mind. His crew was going to shit bricks.

Otabek did that thing where he bit off the lid of his pen again and again, Yuri thought it was hot. He started scribbling on that file he’d been holding. Yuri started eating the muffin he’d barely touched.

“You are all set,” Otabek’s voice was still level and Yuri found some comfort in it. Yuri nodded as he hastily finished his muffin and then he reached inside his blazer for his wallet.

Casually, he grabbed the whole stack of cash in there and stretched out his hand, mimicking a handshake. Otabek hadn’t noticed the move, he’d been too busy cleaning up after Yuri. Curious, he took Yuri’s hand and felt the cash in there and wrapped his fingers around as Yuri let go and slid it into his back pocket. It was odd that the whole time they never broke eye contact. Still hadn’t. Again, that small blush reappeared on his face and he looked away.

“Thank you,” Yuri said.

He slid his sunglasses back unto his nose and walked away. Otabek couldn’t help but stare. He watched him settle his bill at the front desk and then nodding in his general direction. Finally, he turned around and exited the building.

_What a sight._

His mother came running again. Otabek tried to make her go away by handing her the profile she was supposed to be collecting.

“He is so polite!” she said. “And he wants to come back!”

Otabek almost dropped the nail polish he was holding. “What?”

“He wants to come back next week,” she said, a small smirk appearing on her face. “He will be back at the same time. I’ll add him to your sheet.”

She finally left after she realized once more that she wouldn’t be able to get any words out of him. In many ways, he was just like his father. Otabek sat back down and in the privacy of his half hidden workspace, he smiled the smallest of smiles.

Otabek felt the lump the cash in his back pocket and pulled it out. Otabek's expression wavered a little until it melted into one of utter confusion. It was more tip than he'd made in a whole month.


	2. Every Boy Deserves A Swan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly did not expect that level of enthusiasm in response to my fic. Thank you everyone that left comments and kudos. They were all really appreciated. Anyway, here's the second part and I hope it finds you well cuddled up with a warm beverage because every single one of you deserves to be warm and safe.
> 
> Have a lovely day/evening.
> 
> Let me know if you'd be interested in the playlist for this fic. I usually never write anything without music in mind.

Yuri starred at the ground beneath him. The stage felt cold against his almost bare feet. His toes were showing and he thought he needed a manicure. Something for next week. Tomorrow he had to go in and get rid of the color on his nails. He stared at them for longer than people should look at their nails. It caught the attention of his trainer, Yakov.

“Nervous?” he said.

Yuri let his hand back to his side. Images of a dark haired nail artist kept flashing into his mind. He shook his head. Of course he was nervous. Angry even. What was a guy like Otabek doing in a nail salon? What did he find so thrilling about putting nail polish on a stranger’s fingers? It was a waste.

Then again, his nails were perfect.

“You’re up next,” Yakov said.

Yuri balled his hands into fists, his nails digging into the palm of his hands. The familiar sound of his song started ringing into his ears and Yuri shook his head from side to side.

Taking a few calming breaths, he closed his eyes.

_His eyes._

Yuri saw them look up at his. Shocked, his eyes flew open and he snorted. Yuri was not a loser; Yuri Plisetsky was not the type to obsess over anyone. His dancing was all that mattered.

Furious, he stepped into the light, sharing his art with the world.

Was it really surprising to hear his name over the speakerphone as the winner? Yuri couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face as the old man handed him his medal and a small check.

Yuri briefly glanced at the amount. He smiled to himself. It would make a nice tip, he thought. He wished he’d been there to see the look on his face when he realized just how much he’d paid to have such a handsome face look at him like he was nothing more than just… a client. A boy. This feeling of normalcy was pricey to obtain lately. But Yuri Plisetsky would pay any price to sit across someone for close to an hour without being pestered into answering questions about his personal life.

Truth was it was pretty inexistant. He’d managed to find the salon on his own and he sure as hell didn’t tell anyone where he was. Even when he thought the building looked really cool with its modern decorating. Even when he wanted to find out all about who worked there, especially who Otabek Altin was.

Why had that name sounded so familiar? It was midnight already and he was been driven back to his apartment uptown. On his phone, he looked up the named up. The top results were disappointing. He didn’t seem to use any form of social media. If he did, he used an alias. The only thing Yuri found were pieces of music posted on various music websites. He ended up listening to a song on soundcloud that was named. Reverie by Altin. Yuri snuck his earphones in and listened attentively.

Yuri realised he’d heard a remix of this song somewhere. He used to practice on it. It had a nice structure and an easy beat. The piano melted in with the retro beats. It sent Yuri back to his training days. He was thoroughly the nostalgia of it all. Otabek was trying to capture the past, and lock it into a song. This is why it was familiar. Yuri knew the sound of him.

The following morning when he walked in and was greeted. He wondered what to say first. But when he was brought to Otabek’s corner, he found he couldn’t think of anything.

For one, there were the clothes. Starting from the feet, he wore black combat boots. His army pants were tucked inside beautifully and he wore a black tshirt with that same old denim jacket.

Then his face. His glorious, unphased, unchanging expression.

Otabek outstretched his hand, “good morning.” He said. Yuri had forgotten how deep his voice was and it stirred him up. Still, he managed to keep it under check and outstretched his hand to meet Otabek’s.

He noticed the slightest change in the man’s face. “What is it?”

Was his bun too messy? Were his pants unzipped? Otabek raised his other hand apologetically. “It’s nothing.”

Otabek waved him towards his seat and they both sat down. Yuri crossed his legs, wanting to look as laid back as usual, despite his body being so sore because of the competition.

“What can I do for you today?” he asked. He dug in that file from his drawer and slid it in between them. Yuri saw his name and just underneath there was a history graph of everything he’d requested last time he came. He even had his snack preferences on there.

He also saw that the contact information was impeccably blank.

“I’d like to have this nail polish removed,” he started.

Yuri noticed something then. Otabek’s eyebrows were knit together, like he’d just heard something unpleasant. “Has it chipped?”

He lifted his hand and motioned for Yuri to please present him his hand. Flustered, Yuri obediently moved his hand into Otabek’s and watched him observe his work. It was still flawless. Yuri wondered why it bothered him to have it removed so much. Maybe he thought it was a waste. But didn’t places like this thrive on people like Yuri who constantly demanded to be looked after in one way or another, whatever the price.

“No, it is still in perfect condition.” Yuri said. “In my profession, hands are mostly accessories.”

“Hm,” Otabek’s response was somewhere between sexy and enthralling. Regardless, Yuri found himself completely smitten, and annoyed.

“I just… I don’t need it anymore.” Yuri said.

Why did it bother him to have it removed so much. If anything, he thought Otabek would be happy to see him regardless of what he asked.

“It suits you,” he said quietly. Yuri nearly gasped, “that’s all.”

_Oh. Ooooooo._

“It does,” Yuri agreed. He looked at them again. “But I think we could do better.”

Otabek looked up, his expression unreadable once more. Yuri swallowed hard. He thrived on making that man feel things he couldn’t hide. He wanted to mess him up, make him react to his words and actions. He needed to.

“I am at your disposal,” he said.

Yuri made an annoyed sound again. How was it that Otabek was so good at saying things he wanted to hear.

“I’d like for you to choose exactly what it is you think that would suit me.” Yuri said.

Otabek sat back in his chair, eyeing Yuri carefully. “That is a professional risk; what if you don’t like what you see.”

Yuri chuckled, “I doubt that’s possible. I rather enjoy your work… among other things.”

Why was he being so bold? Was it because he’d just won a competition or because he’d barely slept. If Otabek was to reject his advances, it was now or never. Otabek’s gaze remained steadily on him.

“If I do that sort of thing for you,” he leaned in closer. It was then that Yuri realised that Otabek was still holding his hand. How long had he been holding it this gently? He gave it a few gentle squeezes before releasing it completely. “You may have to give me some more information about yourself.”

Yuri snorted, looking down at his crossed legs. “If you get me coffee, I just might.”

“No snack?” Otabek inquired, getting up.

“I’m a bit nauseous, so no thank you.”

Otabek left without another word and Yuri took out his phone and decided to wind down by listening to one of Otabek’s song. It sounded contradictory, but Altin’s music was actually too soothing for it to matter.

After a song, Otabek was back… with a coffee and an advil.

“We don’t have anything more than regular advil, but let me know if you’d like for the staff to get some for you.”

Yuri wordlessly took the pill and then a sip of the hot beverage. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Otabek said. He took out another paper out of his drawer. That one appeared to be blank.

“What that’s for?” Yuri asked.

“I would like this information to remain confidential, so I will keep it on me at all times.” Otabek said without looking up. He was already writing.

“At all times,” Yuri repeated, intrigued.

Otabek looked up and there was definitely something about how he knew exactly where to find Yuri’s eyes with one swift motion.

“I would use my phone, but it might look like I’m working.”

“Ah,” Yuri folded his hands in his lap and braced himself. He hated this part, the questions. He’d people just see for themselves. But time machines were not yet invented. Curse those backwards scientists.

“You don’t have to,” his voice startled Yuri.

“It’s not that… it’s just… all so annoying.”

Otabek dropped the pen between them and sat back again. He was staring, blatantly so. Yuri would’ve felt more embarrassed if he wasn’t so entirely captivated by the man in front of him and his unwavering gaze.

“I understand,” he said.  
  
He tore a piece of paper from the almost blank page and scribbled something on it.

“If you change your mind,” he said folding the paper in two and sliding across the table.

Yuri took it and immediately slid it into his pocket. Like a secret note. He smiled and Otabek frowned again, looking away for the first time.

“Now,” he reached for the miniature drill on his desk and outstretched a hand towards him. “Shall we?”

“I think,” Yuri started. “I will hold on to this one for a while but… can you do my feet?”

Otabek put the tool away, his expression back to being a blank canvas.

“Please, this way.” The man rose from his seat and Yuri took a moment to admire him before he stood for himself.

“Grab the coffee,” he instructed.

Yuri grabbed it before he realized he’d just been given an order and had obeyed without so much as a quip back. How unlike him.

Otabek was standing there patiently, waiting patiently for Yuri to overcome whatever emotion he was going through right then. It never ceased to fascinate him how this person could feel so much and communicate so poorly.

“This way,” Otabek said.

Yuri started when he noticed there was a small smile plastered across his face. As soon as he turned away, Yuri covered his face, feeling a blush rushing to his cheeks and stinging them.

_My god, whatever shall I do._

There was definitely something about that man kneeling at his feet, covering them in water, and wedging his fingers between his toes. Yuri was fighting a battle he seemed he could not win, but he be damned if he wouldn't die trying.

They didn't speak for the remainder of the appointment. When it was over and done, Yuri reached into his leather jacket and got his wallet out. Otabek was frowning, and it was so delicious, he couldn't help but taking all of the cash in there once more and sticking it in the palm of his hand. This time, however, Otabek didn't let go.

"Tips are not mandatory," he said.

"On the contrary," Yuri said forcing himself out of his grasp. "I think you could use it more than I ever could."

He waved and walked away, his hand was burning and it was a good thing he was wearing looser pants because he already felt quite trash for being aroused in such a place. Still, when the front desk lady asked him if there were any changes to his arrangements, he said no. He stared in Otabek's direction and found him staring, his hands in his pockets. Yuri quickly felt a burning sensation creep down all the way to his pants again and he felt he had to leave before he'd make a scene. He waited for his chauffeur to pick him up, settled in the backseat. The minute they drove away, he grabbed his skull and dug his still colored nails into his skin.

"What the fuck!" He yelled and kicked the passenger seat in front of him.

The chauffeur was unperturbed; this happened a lot and apparently, it wasn't about to stop.


	3. A Steep And Very Narrow Stairway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I don't know how long this fic will be. Just take it as is. I know I will. Please enjoy the ride and thank you for all the comments/kudos. I'm glad you guys are enjoying this.

Otabek felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He slid it out so smoothly it nearly gave all the girls in the study an aneurism. It was Monday evening and Otabek had wondered just how long he’d take him to give up arms.

60 hours. That’s how long.

  **< xxx-xxx-4236>**: Just so you know, I am a very  busy person.

 Otabek typed quickly.

  **You:** As am I.

 Quickly, he updated the contact info and a reply came in just as he pressed enter.

 “Otabek,” the leader warned. “Please take it outside.”

 Otabek nodded and got up to leave. He knew he was being watched; he’d been watched his whole life. It was a sin to acknowledge it and so he just let it go most of the time. Once he was in the hallway, he pressed the dial button and pressed the phone to his ear. The phone didn’t even ring twice before a familiar voice picked up.

 “Plisetsky,” he sounded annoyed. If that’s how he sounded when he answered the phone, maybe he didn’t get that many phone calls.

 “Oi,” Otabek said, not sure what to call him. He hadn’t ever called him by his name yet. It felt that if he did, it would complicate things even more.

 “Otabek?!” he sounded surprised and annoyed now. Otabek would’ve paid good money to see the look on his face.

 “Why are you calling? Aren’t we both supposed to be busy right now?”

 “I am taking a break from study group,” Otabek said leaning against the wall.

 Yuri sounded like he was stifling a giggle. “No way, you’re one of those people?”

 “I don’t know what you mean,” Otabek said, he saw some girls step out of the room as well and walked further away.

 “I didn’t think you were the group study type,” Yuri explained.

 “Some projects require whole teams,” Otabek explained.

 “Ah, so that’s how it is.”

 There was a slight pause. Then Yuri snorted and Otabek made an inquiring sound.

 “It’s just… I think this is the longest we’ve ever spoken.” Yuri’s voice was on the verge of trembling. Was he nervous, excited? Regardless, Otabek wish he’d called sooner.

 “Perhaps,” Otabek conceded. “Is it bad?”

 “No!” Yuri’s answer was a little too energetic but Otabek didn’t mind. “So, why did you call?”

 “To talk,” Otabek said.

 Yuri snorted again. “Is that all?”

 “Also to ask if perhaps you’d have time for coffee once I’m done.”

 Otabek’s tone was so even, it was pissing him off. Why, oh why, did Otabek Altin get to be so flawless when he was always the hot mess?

 “When will you be done?” Yuri asked looking at the clock above the studio’s mirror.

 “In an hour or so,” Otabek answered.

 “Where do you want to go?” Yuri sounded impatient, but Otabek just thought he was just happy and embarrassed someone was asking him out.

 “We can get coffee,”Otabek went back to leaning against the wall. “Anywhere is fine. Whatever is most convenient to you.”

 “I know a place,” Yuri said. “Do you need a lift?”

 “No, thanks. Just a location.”

 Yuri blurted out the name of high end street and the name of a cafe place made up of foreign words. It was not a place Otabek had set foot in, but he knew of it all the same.

 “I will text you when I’m done,” Otabek said.

 “Right,” Yuri replied curtly.

Otabek pressed end call and Yuri blinked a couple of times before he’d realize it was over. He stared at the screen that displayed how long this exchange of words had lasted. A whole five minutes. Yuri thought he’d been a long time since anyone had called him.

 He hung his head in shame. He should call his grandfather. If he wasn’t so damn busy…

 The door to the studio opened and Yakov walked in with a fresh batch of water bottles. He handed one out to Yuri who wordlessly took it and practically downed it in one go.

 “You know, Yuri,” Yakov started.

 Yuri winced. He never liked whatever followed that particular start to a sentence addressing him.

 “Maybe you need to take some time off,” Yakov said. “I’m all about regionals, but you’ve been so stressed lately…”

 “That has nothing to do with regionals,” Yuri interrupted heaving an annoyed sigh.

 “Then what is it? You’ve been having a shitty attitude for over a week now. Is there something you’re not telling me? Are you injured?”

 “God, just get off my back!” Yuri snapped.

 Yakov’s eyes narrowed and he watched Yuri wipe his mouth with his drenched tshirt. The boy was obviously flustered. There was something going on. But at his age, it could honestly be anything. Maybe even a crush? If that was the case, then he could only hope that the other party was aware of how fragile Yuri’s mind could be.

 How easily distracted.

 Yuri pressed play on the boombox and started his routine over, putting all that he had into it. All the frustration, all the pent up feelings he was keeping inside, he let them all out on the floor.

 Yakov was shocked. He hadn’t seen a performance this raw since his grandfather had been hospitalized. Back then Yuri had danced with such passion, that the judges had overlooked his one mistake, but this was different. This had a tinge of longing and loneliness. Yuri let his arms linger, waiting for someone to grab the hand he was stretching out into empty air.

  _Uh._

 Maybe, just maybe, this couldn’t be such a bad thing after all. Once he was done, Yuri hit the showers and tied up his wet hair in a bun again. His hair was now growing past his shoulders and he’d grown attached to it. He was pretty sure that Otabek liked it.

 Yuri kicked the bench in the locker room. What did he care if Otabek liked it or not? He grabbed his gym bag and stepped outside. He shivered almost instantly. The breeze was cold and his hair didn’t make things easier. He took his phone out and looked at the time. It had been an hour already, so any time now. His chauffeur drove up and he decided to go ahead and wait at the cafe. As soon as he walked in, the waitress nodded and closed off most of the blinds until no one on the street could tell who was inside. Yuri handed her a tip and she thanked him graciously. She brought him the usual and then he asked for a menu.

 “I’m expecting someone,” Yuri announced. His voice wasn’t trembling and he was rather proud of it.

 The waitress looked surprised, but pleasantly so. She smiled at him and said she’d bring two menus. Just as she left, the phone buzzed in his hand.

  **Otabek:** I’m on my way.

 Yuri read it over and over. His brain didn’t seem to want to grasp the words. Which is why when he heard the sound of a motorcycle drive by, he ignored it, still looking at the text on his phone.

 The door opened and shut and the sound of plastic against metal caught his attention as he finally looked up. The cafe was always pretty dim lighted so it was hard to pin point if Otabek looked anything out of the usual. Except maybe that he was just as handsome, if not more. His hair was messier and his nose was red. Like he’d been out in the cold too long.

 “What is this?” Yuri pointed towards the helmet Otabek had placed on the table momentarily as he slid out of his leather coat.

 “Oh,” Otabek detached his eyes away from Yuri with great effort and nodded towards the window. Yuri followed his gaze and peeked through the blinds to find one of the blackest, ostentatious motorcycles sitting on the side of the sidewalk.

 “That’s yours?” Yuri asked in near disbelief. It seemed impossible to him that this person could get any cooler, just as it was impossible for Otabek to get over how good Yuri looked with wet hair.

 “Yes,” he said.

 “How did you manage to pay for that?!” Yuri exclaimed as Otabek took a seat right across of him. It felt like deja vue, but Yuri wasn’t about to complain.

 “Oh I’ve had it for a while,” Otabek proceeded to take his gloves off by biting into the finger crotches.

 Yuri momentarily stopped breathing. “That… that doesn’t answer my question.”

 “It doesn’t? I bought it when I turned 16.”

 “Your parents must give you some crazy  allowance,” Yuri said still staring at Otabek’s fingers who were now on the menu.

 “Divorced parents,” Otabek said. “I told my dad if he bought me that on my sixteenth birthday, he wouldn’t have to worry  about paying for my school fees.”

 Yuri blinked, “and he just… he went ahead and did it, uh?”

 “It made it easier for him and his new girlfriend. Besides,” he set the menu down and folded his fingers on his lap as he directly looked Yuri in the eye. “We weren’t that close.”

 Yuri felt a wave of sadness creeping up on him. He thought of his parents, of his grandpa, and how none of them were ever able to come to his competitions. He had good excuses, but Otabek pretty much chose to be apart from his father.

 “What about your mom?” Yuri asked, genuinely curious.

 “She’s doing quite well,” Otabek said. Yuri swore he almost saw him smile. “You’ve actually met her.”

 “Uh?!” Yuri was being loud, and yet Otabek wouldn’t have it any other way.

 Otabek let the corner of his mouth turn up into a smile, “she owns the salon.”

 "Oh,” Yuri said. “She is a very nice lady.”

He took of his sip of his coffee to hide the blush that had crept on him. So, Otabek was close to his parents. He chose his mother. It was often the case when divorces happened. Still, he wondered if Otabek could’ve suffered from growing up without a father. Yuri knew he was an irritating person, but his grandfather never tried to take it out of him. I guess it wasn’t the same for everyone.

 “You seem troubled,” he heard Otabek’s voice over the sound of his thoughts and snapped out of it.

 “Ah, no.” Yuri said.

 Yuri shook his head and determined it was time to move on, “how was study group?”

 Otabek frowned slightly, but indulged Yuri. “It was fine. We’re about done with the powerpoint. Now all we need are the correct sources.”

 “Sounds like a pain,” Yuri stated just as the waitress approached them.

Otabek looked at the waitress only for the time that was conventionally appropriate, giving his order,  and returned his full attention to Yuri. The young man seemed to know the menu by heart as he hadn’t touched it ever since Otabek had set foot in the building.

 “If you let your hair dry like that, it’ll look terrible in the morning,” Otabek stated.

 Yuri flinched and blushed. What the hell? What was he paying attention to such details?! Yuri hung his head in defeat.

 “Why do you care what it looks in the morning?” Yuri mumbled. He wasn’t sure Otabek would be able to catch that, but he to his demise. He did.

 “I just think about you a lot,” Otabek’s voice was still as flat and unwavering.

Yuri’s head slowly rose and he saw Otabek staring. His breath itched as he realized that the man wasn’t playing. None of this was a game. He enjoyed putting Yuri in this state. This was how Otabek Altin played, and boy was Yuri ready to fight back.

 “You’re awfully bold,” Yuri said crossing his legs.

 Otabek mirrored the motion, but his legs were thicker and were slightly more distracting considering how toned they were, even hidden behind leather pants.

 “I am a man of few words,” Otabek stated.

 So he was. Yuri knew that and yet, he was ultimately captivated, hanging onto every word. He wanted to know exactly what Otabek meant when he said he thought of him.

 “Why did you call me here?” Yuri breathed out. It was difficult to breathe normally now, hard to look back into those two pools of darkness in front of him.

 “To talk,” Otabek said.

 “About?” Yuri insisted, leaning closer.

 Just as Otabek was about to answer, the waitress returned to hand them their snack. Yuri wondered how come service had been so quick and he had a brief look around and noticed they were the only clients there. Yuri wasn’t sure how to process the information, he held on to whatever common sense he had left which was telling him to fill his empty, aching stomach.

 Otabek watched him eat in silence for a couple of seconds, then proceeded to do the same. Oh, the look on his face. Yuri was captivated and so was he, drowning in Yuri’s blushes. He wanted to touch the heat of his face, make it even warmer. He had a feeling Yuri would like that.

 “You still haven’t answered my question,” Yuri reminded him after he was done with the first half of his sandwich.

 Otabek knew exactly what he was referring to so he set his food down and steadily looked him right in the eye.

 “You,” he said. “But I feel there’s something on your mind?”

 It was a genuine question, but the fact that Otabek started licking his fingers right at the end of the sentence made Yuri’s heart stop.

  _It wasn’t fair._

 Yuri let out something between a moan and a growl as he let himself slump further into his seat. Otabek kept looking. He was always looking. Yuri thought he’d burn holes through him. He didn’t know what to say, and he knew Otabek wasn’t going to fill the silence.

 Surprisingly, he did.

 “You haven’t answered my question,” Otabek said, mimicking Yuri’s previous statement.

 Yuri sat up in one fluid and yet brusque movement, leaning across the table and spilling the content of his now lukewarm coffee across the table, he grabbed Otabek’s shirt and pulled him closer.

 Yuri had the feeling that Otabek let himself be dragged in, but it was Yuri who’d just fallen for the trap. They remained like that for a moment, forgetting the world around them. At some point, Otabek slowly raised a hand to Yuri’s face, and slid the back of his fingers against Yuri’s right cheek. Yuri shut his eyes, giving in to the moment, before he heard the distracting sound of liquid dripping on hardwood floor. He opened his eyes and found Otabek to be unexpectedly closer. His lips mere inches away from his. Yuri’s eyes plunged into the mess that was below them and saw that there was coffee all over Otabek’s lap.

 “Oh my god!” Yuri quickly sat back into his seat. “I’m so sorry.”

 Otabek said nothing for a while as he grabbed a couple of napkins from the dispenser and proceeded to wipe the coffee off his crotch.

 “I’m not,” Otabek calmly responded.

 Yuri snorted and covered his face with his hand in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

 “You…. what are you?”

 A dj. A nail artist. A man. A very attractive man who somehow knew how to push every single one of Yuri’s buttons. Yuri sighed, forgetting momentarily about the question.

 “Someone who wants to kiss you.”

 The sentence came floating out like a dream. A secret that was finally revealed. Yuri sighed in resignation and sliding his fingers into his own hair he moved them until they reached the bun.

 “How?”

 “Preferably against a wall,” Otabek went around saying shamelessly.

 Yuri yelled and covered his ears. He wasn’t hearing this! It couldn’t be happening! How could an practically complete stranger know exactly what he wanted right then, right now.

 “We can’t,” Yuri finally breathed after he was recovered. His dick was telling another story, but he couldn’t afford to listen to it. No matter what, Yuri Plisetsky didn’t want to give the tabloids anything to chase him out for.

 “I know,” Otabek said. “Not right here. But I just thought you should know.”

 Yuri looked down at his food and found he wasn’t hungry anymore. To his dismay, Otabek kept talking.

 “When it does happen however, I’m going to undo that bun of yours, and run my fingers through that hair.”

 Yuri remained with his head down and swallowed thickly before he asked, “are you going to pull on it?”

 “That goes without saying,” Otabek obliged.

 Yuri let out the tiniest moan and then got up from his seat. He knew Otabek could see his erection. He was somehow proud of it, and he could tell Otabek was enjoying it. Leaning in the back of his chair, Yuri could also see the thick outline pressing against the leather of his pants.

 There was something so delicious about this moment. How they both wanted each other, wanted to give in, but couldn’t. Not yet.

 “Do you want a lift?” Otabek said, breaking the tension with his words.

 Yuri nodded and Otabek got up, grabbing the helmet and handing it to Yuri. While Yuri’s hands were busy, Otabek left enough money to cover both their meals and a decent tip.

 Together they walked out and they stood out there for a moment, enjoying the night air, waiting for things to settle down.

 “Let’s go,” Otabek said once he figured he wouldn’t calm down anytime soon.

 Yuri put on the helmet as Otabek revved up the engine and waited for Yuri to climb on the back. Yuri was absolutely sure that he could feel his boner poke against his back, but he didn’t complain or make any form of comment and so, Yuri gave him an address, and Otabek took off into the night, with Yuri holding tight to him.


	4. It Wasn't Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's it for this week guys. Then again, I might write some more again tomorrow. But I might let this breathe. Don't you think it'd be more enjoyable that way? Hm. Enjoy.

 Saturday rolled around quickly enough. Although it had been six days since the cafe incident, Yuri felt that it had only been yesterday since he heard about…

_How he sees me._

Yuri covered his mouth for the third time in a row. It was 6:12AM. His sheets were damp from all the sweating he’d been doing overnight. If he hadn’t been haunted by dreams, maybe he’d feel better. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Otabek. His words, his face, his scent.

Yuri closed his eyes. It shamed him to realise that he wanted more. He was a sinful man, and his throbbing dick was nothing but a testimony. Yuri fought the urge to touch himself. He would not be the man who masturbated to the thought of someone. He  would not stoop that low. If anything, he wanted to put Otabek in this state of wanton. Or at least, throw him off his game long enough for Yuri to counter attack, to resist.

The texting didn’t help.

After that fateful evening, Otabek had been pretty regular into wishing Yuri a good day around 7AM every morning… just as Yuri was getting out of the shower. It was always up to Yuri to respond. An urge he fought well until lunchtime sometimes. That particular Friday he gave in just as he was sipping on his second coffee of the day.

 **Yuri:** Sup’?

The answer came quicker than expected.

 **Otabek:** Sitting in class.

 **Yuri:** Isn’t it lunchtime?

 **Otabek:** I take extra curriculum.

 **Yuri:** What is that?

 **Otabek:** What is extra curriculum or what do I take for extra curriculum?

 **Yuri:** Don’t tease me, idiot, I’m tired.

 **Otabek:** Swimming.

Yuri briefly thought of Otabek in nothing but a swimming suit. He crossed his legs hurriedly to hide any potential accident of the flesh.

 **…:** Why are you tired?

 **Yuri:** Just didn’t get a lot of sleep.

 **Otabek:** Are you thinking about me?

Yuri almost spit out the sip of coffee he’d just taken. Really, coffee with Otabek around, even on his phone, was just a bad idea. Yuri could also tell that his expression was totally blank as he typed out those words.

 **Yuri:** Are you?

Yuri thought he was being smart, turning the tables, but the answer, again, caught him off guard.

 **Otabek** : Yes.

At the very least, Otabek could’ve denied it, or just have flat out ignored him. But Otabek was fearless, charging ahead with his obsession of him like it was nothing to be ashamed of.

 **Yuri:** Aren’t you in a pool right now?

 **Otabek:** Locker room.

 **Yuri:** Are you wearing any clothes?

 **Otabek:** Are you?

Yuri slammed the phone on the table and startled everyone else on break. He didn’t care however and let the phone rest face flat on there for a while. He finished his coffee, hiding the heat on his face as best he could.

Really, this man was unreal.

Yuri picked up the phone again. Otabek hadn’t added anything since then. Just as well. He had to go back to dance practice. Getting up and stretching he marched on to practice with twice as much energy despite the lack of sleep.

Now here he was,  hours away from seeing him again and he still hadn’t gotten a decent amount of sleep.

Otabek outstretched his hand to shake his own. He didn’t know why they bothered with the formality, but he also would never oppose Otabek reaching out to touch him. Otabek’s fingers dragged along his palm and fingers as he released his hold of him and Yuri thought it was a bit cruel since they were both painfully aware the state he was in.

“What can I for you today?” Otabek said.

He was the same. His face didn’t betray any emotion or wanton… yet his question felt like it was loaded. Like he was truly asking what Yuri wanted, not for his nails, but for himself.

Yuri swallowed back the words that were so bitterly hanging on his lips.

_Touch me more._

It seemed silly, as for some reason Otabek was already waving for his hand. Yuri gave in too quickly, but he didn’t care. He wanted this.

“Cold, as usual,” Otabek stated.

Then he focused on the nails. Yuri found himself leaning forward as Otabek’s focus was elsewhere. He noticed Otabek’s scent; piny. Yuri didn’t think he used cologne, but his shampoo smelled amazing.

“Your nails have grown,” Otabek said looking up to find Yuri mere inches away. The distance didn’t seem to bother him, neither did the eye contact.

“Do you want me to retouch it?” Otabek squeezed Yuri’s fingers lightly as he asked, making Yuri feel like he was gonna collapse from stimuli if he wasn’t careful enough.

Once again, Yuri was defeated. He leaned back, letting his hand get gently squeezed by the man that had clouded his mind over the past weeks.

“If you think you can paint something I’d like, feel free to.”

Otabek gently stroke the back of Yuri’s hand with his thumb. It shouldn’t have affected Yuri so badly, but it was so gentle and yet firm that he felt like he was going to cry. He tsked into his hand.

“You look exhausted,” Otabek observed finally letting go of the hand to reach into his drawer.

“I’ll be fine once I have coffee in my system,” Yuri said letting his hand fall off his face in defeat.

Otabek loved that expression just then. That of defeat and surrender. It did things to his body. Then again, everything about Yuri did things to him.

“I’ll get you coffee, as soon as I figure out what I’m going to do to you,” Otabek said.

Grabbing his pen, he took the lid off with his teeth and Yuri hissed at the sight. Otabek looked his way, curious.

“That thing you do,” Yuri explained. “It looks nice.”

Yuri smirked. He wanted to tease him. At his workplace, Otabek was unable to do anything. But he sure could say whatever he wanted as long as noone else was too close. In response, Otabek licked his lower lip and Yuri saw the ghost of a smile appear.

Otabek looked down to write and Yuri observed as he started writing random color codes. He could feel heat starting to pool in his abdomen as the previous image was being catalogued into his mind.

Looking up again, Yuri nearly jumped as Otabek looked him dead in the eye again.

“Is it the biting?” he asked. It was softer than his usual tone, like a lover asking an intimate question.

Yuri shivered slightly. He thought about ignoring the question, but  Otabek was staring, and he was weak. He would not betray himself further, however, and settled for a nod.

Otabek looked down at Yuri’s hands and was quiet for some time.

“I like your fingers,” he confessed.

Yuri’s heart stopped, just then, he thought he saw the slightest bit of a red creep up to Otabek’s cheeks. Without another word, however, Otabek got up for his errand and Yuri was left to suffer alone.

Soon he returned. Yuri saw that he’d picked three colors. Put together, Yuri thought they’d look like waves crashing on sand and he was genuinely curious what Otabek planned to do. Otabek put his coffee in front of him and then proceeded to get his tools ready for removal. Otabek put his hand out and he didn’t have to ask or wave this time, Yuri put his hand in it and Otabek almost instantly started working. It was then that Yuri noticed that he was wearing a mask to cover his nose and mask. Yuri was disappointed, but he also didn’t want Otabek’s face to be riddled with sparkly used dark nail polish.

Waiting for him to take the damn thing off felt like torture, yet when he swapped hands Otabek briefly slid it off.

“Why are you pissed off?” he asked.

Yuri’s eyes widened and he looked down almost instantly. “I’m not!”

“All right,” Otabek slid the mask back on and proceeded with cleaning the second hand.

When it was all over and done, Yuri let out a sigh of relief when Otabek took the mask off. Otabek noticed. Because he always did.

“Was it the mask?”

Yuri didn’t want to admit to it; he’d rather die. So he hung his head low, even slunk down his chair lower, and kept his mouth shut.

_How did he always know._

Otabek wiped Yuri’s hands clean and was momentarily distracted by his mother who brought him information concerning his next appointment. He’d be slightly late. Even when Otabek looked at his mother, even when he conversed with her, he never stopped stroking Yuri’s fingers clean.

When she left, Otabek began shaking the nail polish and Yuri felt like he could look up again. He looked fresh as usual. This guy had to get his hair fixed on the regular. It never looked like it was growing. Always the same, tousled backwards with the clean cut on the lower half. He looked rested, compared to Yuri who was a complete mess.

“You look rested,” Yuri found himself saying.

Otabek stared at him again and Yuri almost regretted his comment.

“I have been sleeping rather well,” he answered. Setting the bottle down put his hand down palm up. Yuri immediately put his hand in his.

“Any secret formula you’d like to share?” Yuri asked, disdain dripping at his every word. Why did Otabek get to sleep like a baby when he lie in bed tormented by his own disgusting feelings.

“Masturbate,” he said.

He was bent over Yuri’s fingers, the first stroke on his thumb already placed. He held it up to Yuri’s eye level and asked if it was all right. But Yuri couldn’t answer.

Otabek was on the verge of a breakdown. That face. That expression. It was so obvious. Yuri was pent up. He was on the verge of a mental breakdown. He was going to explode. Words were going to come out. It was going to be beautiful.

“M...masturbate?” the beauty in front of him stuttered.

Otabek nodded then put his hand directly in front of Yuri’s eyes. Yuri nearly shoved it away but instead he nodded quietly. Otabek resumed his work and he thought the moment was gone and over when Otabek went on.

“Every night before bed,” Otabek moved from finger to finger, never once faltering in his lines. “Don’t you?”

He looked up as he asked those words and Yuri let out a small moan. He was hard. He could hide it all he wanted, but he was still hard, in a public place, getting his nails done by a man he found dangerously irresistible.

“No,” Yuri confessed. His voice shook with the desire that was shaking his entire body. He wasn’t sure what he wanted first. Otabek’s mouth, or his fingers.

Otabek paused in his work, thoughtful. Then he turned the LED light on and slid Yuri’s hand inside cuz he was obviously not in any state to move. Otabek almost had to reach out and grab Yuri’s other hand before he snapped out of it.

“I’m sure it would help if you did,” Otabek said calmly.

Yuri fought every urge to pull his hand away and leave immediately. If he wasn’t so captivated by how Otabek looked when he worked, he would’ve walked out minutes ago. But he couldn’t. He was trapped.

Silently, Otabek went on adding the second color, then the third. Yuri wasn’t paying much attention, mainly focusing on calming down. He was glad Otabek was merciful and kept his attention on his work. He didn’t speak until he held up the finish product in front of Yuri’s eyes again.

Yuri was speechless.

_The ocean._

He didn’t know how he’d done it, but Yuri’s nails looked like the beach, with a wave crashing against it. The details were phenomenal, albeit restricted by the small space. Yuri was even more shocked to see that Otabek was acting like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Your eyes remind me of the beach,” he shrugged simply as he wiped his hands clean.

At this stage, Yuri was supposed to get up and go wash his hands, but he just sat there, unable to move, looking down at his fingers.

“You should go home and rest,” Otabek’s voice woke him from his reverie and Yuri figured he had calmed down.

“Y… yeah,” he muttered. He tried getting up, but his legs wouldn’t support him. Otabek had to help him up, his hand reaching under Yuri’s left arm and not letting go until he felt sure he could stand on his own.

Yuri chuckled. “Don’t look so worried.”

He said, but he felt pitiable. He was in such a state and yet… for all he knew Otabek was just playing with him and had no other interest.

“I’ll walk you out,” he said.

He slid an arm around Yuri’s waist and Otabek felt him shiver at his touch. He felt worried even more. He shook his head as he approached the counter and the mother nodded. Still, she looked concerned as she observed them both walk out.

“Yuri,” he said once they were outside. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Yuri let himself lean further into Otabek. He was so bloody tired, he didn’t care anymore. His nose was running and his beauty was tainted by the pain that was now so obvious.

“Mhm,” he mumbled as his chauffeur was pulling over. “Guess I should just… follow your advice.”

Otabek didn’t respond, he helped Yuri into his car and then shut the door behind him. Yuri let himself topple over. He was just about to fall asleep when the car stopped and the chauffeur came around to help him out.

Yuri regained some energy, and refused to be escorted to his room. With the last of his strength, he climbed into bed.

His phone rang. He debated answering it until he saw who was calling.

“What?” he said.

He tried to sound angry, but he honestly didn’t have the energy.

Otabek’s voice rung over the hum of the poor connection. Was he in a basement? “Are you in bed?”

“Yes,” Yuri said struggling out of his pants and finally his shirt. “In my boxers.”

Yuri was practically delirious at this point. He wasn’t even sure he would remember this moment.

Otabek groaned and Yuri’s body went stiff. Almost instantly, the blood rushed back to his crotch and again, he was on the verge of the precipice.

“Yuri,” Otabek breathed into the phone.

Yuri felt a new rush of desire flow through him. Maybe it was because he couldn’t see him, maybe because it was the first time he called out his name like that.

All of the sudden, it was clear the reason why he was calling. This was a follow up call. Otabek was calling because he wanted Yuri to touch himself. He was excited. He wanted this.

Yuri hung up. He was terrified. And he didn’t want to touch himself while on the phone with someone. Even now, he had some dignity left. He reached into his boxers and retrieved his throbbing dick. Slowly, he pumped, trying to make sure that his thoughts were as vague as possible. But, he couldn’t help himself. The places where Otabek had touched him earlier still burned, his voice, altered by the poor audio quality, still resounded in his ears. Was he calling from a fucking closet? That was truly ironic.

Yuri was on the brink of orgasm when his phone rang again. To avoid a surprise visit, Yuri figured he’d just deal with it over the phone, even though it pained him to stop.

“I am trying to sleep,” Yuri said, trying to sound as annoyed as possible.

“I think of you,” Otabek said, his voice rushing out. Yuri could hear the click of his tongue as he finished the sentence. Like he was holding back. Just like Yuri was earlier.

“Uh?” Yuri said, confused.

“When I beat my dick, every night, every morning.” Otabek sighed. “I always think of you.” The words were so explicit and crude that it shook Yuri all the way to his very core.

Two things happened then. Yuri’s hips moved on their own and bucked upwards into his hand, causing to moan. He also dropped the phone and didn’t have the energy to put it up against his ear again as he finally raced to orgasm. He couldn’t tell if Otabek could hear him, or if he’d hung up but he didn’t care. Letting his mind fill up with every memory related to the brown haired devil, he stroked himself mercilessly until he finally climaxed into his hand and stomach.

Suddenly, his eyelids felt so heavy that they could no longer remain and just as Otabek had stated, it was truly a great way to instantly fall asleep.

 


	5. But It Was Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was home sick. So I figured, it's in my lap, I might as well send it your way.

It was Monday. Otabek hadn’t called for the rest of the weekend. Yuri was kind of grateful, but he’d been lying if he said it didn’t make him a little anxious in the least bit. Yakov insisted he take the day off despite all of Yuri’s protests. In many ways, Yuri felt like he was being punished.

If was 10:33 AM and he was still in bed.

It was maddening, the restlessness. Yuri was not the type to wallow in self-pity, but he felt he deserved this. He had pushed himself and stubbornly refused to give in to his own desires. It was bad enough he spent Sunday in his semi-empty apartment in his boxers splurging on anime and take out. He was now out of things to do. He needed physical release. He frowned and started looking for his phone. Ever since he’d thrown it out of sheer impatience against his living room window, he hadn’t bothered to look at it. It might be broken. Then again, Yuri was the type to get the best covers… because Yuri was the type to throw his phone on hard surfaces.

It was still alive. It didn’t have a lot of battery left, and the screen had a small crack at the top, but it had indeed managed to survive. There were not texts or missed calls. Otabek was giving him all the space he needed and it bothered him. If anything, Yuri was too bored to pay attention to how careful Otabek was being.

He went through his call history and pressed hard on Otabek’s name.

Again, the phone rang once.

“Yes?” the sound of his voice alone made it easier to breathe and Yuri temporarily calmed down.

“Where are you?” Yuri asked, crouching down against the window and waving a hand through his messy hair.

“At the library,” Otabek answered.

Yuri snorted, “don’t take calls in the library! You’re being rude! Take it outside!”

There was no answer, just the sound clattering books, and a zipper. Footsteps, a door being slung open.

“Did… did you leave?” Yuri whispered into the phone.

“I was about to leave for class anyway,” Otabek explained.

“You…” Yuri sighed and groaned.

“Are you feeling better?” It was such a relief to hear him ask, because he sounded like he genuinely cared.

“Yes,” Yuri said.

“Good,” Otabek said.

“So you have class?” Yuri asked, letting his butt hit the ground so he was completely sitting now.

“Yeah,” Otabek acquiesced. “Do you want to meet up later?"

Yuri was overjoyed that Otabek was always the one taking the step he didn’t feel strong enough to take. Whatever the circumstance, Otabek seemed to fearlessly walk forward. Without ever looking back.

“Hm,” was all Yuri was able to say. He was a bit uneasy. What did Otabek have in mind? Granted, they were both men, but not all of them went in rushing with their hair in the wind.

“If you want to remain on neutral ground, we can meet at my second workplace.”

Yuri chuckled, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“I am aware that you’re a very busy man,” Otabek said. Yuri heard the sound of more doors opening, then the sound of people circulating all around.

Yuri felt a bit of jealous of it all. To have a normal life. But he wouldn’t trade dancing for anything else. Not even a regular college experience. He’d taken a year to focus on training. After that, he’d pursue further studies.

“If anything, I didn’t think you’d want anything too serious,”

“Too serious?!” Yuri exclaimed suddenly getting on his own two feet. “Are we even doing anything?”

“We don’t have to be doing anything,” Otabek replied, still calmly. “We can just be friends, of course.”

Yuri’s heart sank, and it was a painful sensation.

“But,” Otabek said opening one last door and settling down in a seat. “In my opinion, that would be a fucking waste.”

Yuri swallowed thickly. Hearing Otabek being crude or swear, was exciting to him. He covered his face in shame. “With that in mind, do you still want to meet?”

“With what in mind?” Yuri asked, confused. The blood rushing down to his dick was making it hard for him to think.

“Yuri Plisetsky,” Otabek spoke softly. Probably because he didn’t want the rest of the class to hear him. “I want to make love to you.”

Yuri gasped and the surge of pleasure through him made his dick throb. He let out a small groan.

“You!” Yuri exclaimed out of breath. “You just think I’m going to let you do whatever you want!”

“I don’t think that,” Otabek replied, his voice back to normal now. “I am not like that.”

Yuri calmed down almost instantly. The level of trust he had in this man was a little unwise, but he didn’t really care. He believed because he wanted to believe.

“Where is your other job?”

The answer took him a little by surprise. It was a club where lots of his competitors went to… unwind. He’d been there back in his early days. Before he realized that Yuri wasn’t really into dating at that point. Maybe he’d done his teen years wrong, but he didn’t regret being able to make it to regionals.

Otabek gave him a time and then said he had to hang up. Yuri was about to say bye when his phone died and he let it fall on the carpet, annoyed.

Stretching, Yuri’s mood improved and he spent the rest of the day picking out the perfect outfit. He settled on navy blue tailored pants and a white v-neck, finished up with a leopard print jacket. He debated on tying his hair up, but decided to let it down.

When he walked in there, he definitely saw people staring a great deal. But Yuri couldn’t be bothered, because the music blaring over the speakers was incredibly familiar.

It was his music. This was where Otabek worked. This was where that part of him was displayed. Yuri shivered despite the crippling warmth of the place. It was crowded, and people were slow dancing on the dance floor. This wasn’t a song Yuri had heard before, but the feel and beat were the same. It had the same sense of melancholy, with a tinge of strings. Violin and cello, mixing with techno. It was beautiful, it was exactly the sort of thing Yuri wanted to dance to. He walked to the bar and asked for his favorite; a raspberry mojito, extra mint.

“Well look who it is?”

Yuri froze for a minute, then resumed drinking without bothering to look up.

“Almost didn’t recognize you without your hair tied up in a girl bun. What brings you here?”

Yuri finally looked up, but the person he was looking at definitely understood that he didn’t feel like talking. Besides, it’s not like anyone enjoyed talking to competition. And JJ was the worst possible form of competition; the kind that was more determined to win.

“Woe, easy kitten,” JJ said raising both his hands in protest. “This is a friendly environment. You want to be sour, go hang out back with the desperate chicks. I assume you’re alone because well… aren’t you always?”

Yuri looked around, hoping to prove him wrong. But there wasn’t a familiar face in sight.

“There’s no shame in being picky,” JJ said before putting in his order. “I’m just lucky, having found the perfect girlfriend right off the bat.”

Yuri returned to drinking with a straw, looking around for the DJ stand. He assumed you couldn’t see it from the bar because it was nowhere in sight. So Yuri moved, making his way through the young crowd until he could see who was standing behind it all. The man he’d come to visit.

Yuri walked closer, unto the dance floor. His custom leopard print shoes resonated against the lighter up floor, but it was drowned out by everything else. Yuri felt like he was crossing the desert, on his way to an oasis. An oasis who had one earphone of an headset pressed against his ear and what had come to be Yuri’s favorite thing for Otabek to wear. A leather jacket. Otabek was focused, not looking up for one second but Yuri didn’t mind. This was his workplace after all. Besides, the music was good. He was kind of defeating the purpose of it all; standing still as he observed the DJ’s every movement right here on the dancefloor. It caught the attention of a few drunken girls that started to yell at him to join them, or at least gesticulate in some form. Yuri was too sober to care what pretty girls thought of him and just shoved their hands away when they tried to get physical.

If people were going to be this annoying… It was lucky enough nobody had figured out who he was yet.

Just then the music stopped and Yuri looked at the stand to find it empty. Someone returned but it wasn’t Otabek. Confused, the blond looked around. Soon enough he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned around to find Otabek standing before him.

He was sweating a bit, but it made him look even better for some reason. Or maybe was it that Yuri just thought sweat looked good in general.

“You made it,” Otabek said.

Yuri nodded, feeling a blush creep over his cheeks. He tried to hide behind his hair by bowing his head slightly.

Otabek was about to say something, but the music started again. Loud and energetic. Differently different than his own style. Otabek gestured with his head for them to head to the back, no doubt where only the personnel and DJs were allowed. Otabek pushed aside a wall sized curtain and together they made their way down a hallway. There were rooms on either side which Yuri assumed to be cabins… or unofficial fuck rooms. Otabek kept walking until they reached an exit door that led outside. The temperature clash sent a shiver down Yuri’s spine and Otabek held his drink as he reached into his pocket to slid on a small beanie he’d kept just in case the night got especially cold.

Once he was done, he took his drink back from Otabek, only to find him staring. But it wasn’t the usual stare Yuri was used to. It seemed full of admiration and… curiosity.

“What?” Yuri asked.

Otabek seemed to snap out of it, and his gaze returned to the usual deadbeat stare.

“I just thought you looked good,” Otabek said. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down.”

Yuri had hoped this would have an impact on him. The satisfaction it brought him was almost palpable. He took a few deep breaths and resumed his drinking.

“Your music is good too,” Yuri said.

And then, the most unexpected of things happened. Otabek smiled. Not a half smile, not a professional smile, no. A full on you-have-made-my-day smile. Yuri’s eyes widened and his heart melted. He raked a hand through his hair and Otabek’s smile faded as he had to bite his lip to mute any sound that was about to come out of him.

Yuri was oblivious to that, and he’d make sure it stayed that way. This was neutral ground. Whatever happened next, Yuri was the one who would make the first step. Even though he was the one who had selfishly dragged Yuri out here so they could talk.

“You want to go back in?” Otabek asked.

“To be honest,” Yuri said. “I don’t think you to.”

Otabek watched him finish his drink and then smirk at him.

“But I would love another one of those,” he said.

Otabek nodded and headed for the door which he held open for him. “After you.”

The gesture was simple but it tore at his heartstring. Always being so thoughtful, Yuri had never been close to anyone this nice. Although, if this was considered close, then he didn’t know what dating Otabek Altin was like. He didn't even know if he had a girlfriend. He assumed he didn’t. But what was he going to do if he did?

They were back at the bar soon enough, and Yuri ordered the same thing. Otabek took a beer and let it sit in his hand for a whole five minutes before he took the first sip. Yuri was paying close attention, sipping on his own drink in silence.

They were standing side by side, leaning against the counter, looking at the dance floor full of young, drunk people.

“Are you done for the evening?” Otabek heard Yuri yell over the music.

Otabek looked his way and he had his second shock of the evening. The first being the one seeing Yuri with his hair down, the second was seeing him with his hair down and that serious, concerned look on his face.

Otabek nodded and Yuri waved towards the door. He’d already finished his second cocktail and he looked relaxed. Otabek followed him, eyeing him carefully as they made their way out. He noticed a few girls staring, but he ignored them.

Once they were outside, Yuri stretched and let out a sigh of relief.

“You don’t like these places?” Otabek asked.

“I don’t mind them but,” he glanced over at Otabek sideways. “You didn’t seem like you were having a lot of fun.”

Otabek took a sip of his beer and shrugged, “I like playing music for people.”

“It’s good they play your stuff early, that way people can enjoy the music more.” Yuri sounded more excited than usual. Which only made Otabek think he was cuter.

“This doesn’t seem to surprise you,” Otabek said calmly. “Did you know I was a DJ?”

Yuri blushed again and Otabek figured he wasn’t far from the truth.

“I’ve danced to your music before,” Yuri confessed and he feigned heating up his hands by blowing on them.

Otabek wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to touch this person. Yuri not only loved his music, but he danced to it. Otabek took another sip of his beer and deposited on the ground. Even though it was still half full, he was done with alcohol for the night.

He’d promised this wouldn’t be that kind of night. It was bad enough he wanted to hold Yuri’s hand, he couldn’t imagine what he’d do when all his inhibitions were gone.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Starving,” Yuri answered almost immediately. “I was so busy picking out an outfit for you that I forgot to eat. Still,”

Yuri stroke a model’s pose before Otabek and asked him what he thought.

Otabek eyed him from head to toe and stepped closer. He stared deeply into Yuri’s eyes as he slid the beanie of his head. “This is for me?”

Yuri swallowed hard. He could feel himself leaning slightly forward, and then backwards.

“Yes,” Yuri replied calmly.

Otabek couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to kiss him. He’d thought about it for a while now, but he didn’t want to be a distraction or liability.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Yuri’s stomach growled and Otabek thanked the heavens for the interruption. To his great surprise, he felt a hand slide into his.

_It was cold.Familiar._

Otabek looked at Yuri over his shoulder and found him staring at the ground in embarrassment. He squeezed it lightly before he resumed leading the man to his parking spot.


	6. To The Beat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *something generic and grateful*

Otabek finished typing the last of his notes on his laptop before he stretched his neck in all directions. He looked at his phone to see the time. It was still pretty early, and only Wednesday. Which means he probably couldn’t text yet.

Otabek’s existence revolved around rules. If anything, he was incredibly good at following a schedule. His days were planned and he got off by following instructions to the letter. If anyone in his group had questions about rules or a certain teacher’s instructions. Otabek was your man. He had a good memory for those things, and he wasn’t afraid to ask questions. Teachers were afraid of him, because he showed no hesitation to prove them wrong, or contest their decisions if they didn’t properly follow the rules.

Such things had landed him to be the leader of several group projects and he was approached to be the face of the faculty numerous times. He’d always turned it down, saying he was too busy. While Otabek seemed like the kind of guy who would have a lot of time because of his grades, he wasn’t one to waste time on social activities. Otabek woke up at six every morning, went swimming or to the gym until class started, then would spend the rest of his days at school. If he had any spare time to give he was thinking about music to create or pitches for his future business projects. His evenings were usually spent back at his apartment, trying out some songs in his small studio. Sometimes, clubs would ask him to fill in for no shows. They liked working with him because he delivered. Otabek was still finding his voice after all, so they thought they were giving him a chance in the spotlight. Otabek was grateful for such an opportunity and he thought he was making progress if anything.

Lately, however, he had to account for a unpredictable variant in his life. He could not schedule Yuri. He didn’t think Yuri was the type of person you could call predictable. He was a mountain of emotions, a tyrant of feelings. What Otabek didn’t find worth questioning, Yuri brought meaning to.

He had this firm belief that Yuri could feel enough for the both of them. And while he could sit around and think about Yuri all he wanted, it was dangerous to do so.

He had made it back to his apartment when his phone buzzed and chimed in his back pocket.

 **Yuri:** You still alive?

Otabek almost chuckled. Of course Yuri would assume that if he hadn’t giving any sign of life for a while, he must be dead. Otabek was experimenting with both; letting Yuri know he was thinking of him, or giving him the space he needed.

If the latter resulted in Yuri believing in his imminent death, then maybe he should go back to texting him in the morning.

 **Otabek:** Yes.

The response was instant. Otabek assumed he was probably back to his place as well, relaxing after a full intense day of training. Otabek wasn’t sure what Yuri did with his evenings, because he always seemed to be up for anything at anytime if it was after sunset.

 **Yuri:** I have resumed training. I need a song for regionals. I want it to be one of your songs.

Otabek almost choked on the swig of water he’d just taken from his water bottle.

_A song for you._

Otabek thought it over for what felt to Yuri like an eternity, until he finally typed a response.

 **Otabek:** I am honored, but I would need your cooperation. I don’t want to go into this blindly. It’s one thing to create nail polish designs for you, it’s another to get you a song for regionals.

Again, the response was almost instant.

 **Yuri:** I know.

 **Otabek:** I would need some of your time.

 **Yuri:** When are you free?

 **Otabek:** Lately, my evenings are free. Unless I get called in to fill for a DJ again.

 **Yuri:** We can probably work around that.

 **Otabek:** Why didn’t you just call?

 **Yuri:** I wasn’t sure you’d respond right away.

 **Otabek:** If it’s you I always respond right away.

He had a special ringtone and text tone for Yuri; he always knew when it was him. The phone went black on him and soon a familiar song played and the name Yuri Plisetsky appeared on the screen. Otabek accepted the call immediately.

He heard Yuri chuckle on the other side of the line. “You’re right; it’s practically instant.”

Otabek walked into his studio, which was really a regular room with a few laptops, soundpads, speakers and extra padding on the wall to muffle sound. He sat down at his workspace and spread his legs.

“What can I do for you?” Otabek asked.

He knew that triggered something into Yuri. Maybe it appealed to his dominant side. Maybe it was flattery he appreciate. Regardless, it was a button Otabek enjoyed pushing.

“I would like your permission,” Yuri spoke slower than before. “To use one of your creations for my competition.”

“That’d be an honor,” Otabek responded.

Yuri snorted, “you…” he started. Then he seemed to think better of it. “When would you like to meet?”

“Right now would be good for me; I was going to work on music projects anyway.”

“Where are you?” Yuri asked.

“At my place,” Otabek said, gauging Yuri’s reaction. He might hesitate, he might not want to at all. Yuri was a wild thing; there was no telling just how he’d react to intimacy.

“Where is that?” Yuri sounded impatient. It wasn’t unusual, but it wasn’t what Otabek expected in this sort of situation.

Otabek let him know and soon enough, Yuri was repeating the address to someone else. He must be in his car already.

“I’ll be there in a few,” he said. Before Otabek could give any form of reply, Yuri had hung up.

Otabek put the phone down and briefly looked around the room. It was spotless. Everything was always spotless. There was a reason Otabek required the services of his mother’s maid. He’d been brought up in a clean house and he had come to appreciate the lifestyle. That’s why, when Yuri walked in about fifteen minutes later, he noticed immediately.

“Do you have a maid?” he asked.

“Yes, but I am not really messy to start with. She comes every Monday.” Otabek explained as he carefully Yuri take off his shoes and his jacket off.

He was still in his training clothes. He hadn’t even bothered to shower, but Yuri wasn’t the type not to wear deodorant. Otabek knew Yuri was impulsive, but this came as a contrast from seeing him Monday night all dressed up for him. Otabek didn’t mind either way; any side of Yuri he’d seen so far had been truly mesmerizing.

Yuri retouched his messy bun before he looked at Otabek again.

“All right,” he said. He smiled at him. “Lets talk music.”

Otabek nodded and led him down the hallway to his studio. Again, when they entered Yuri commented on the cleanliness.

“I like things clean,” he said.

“I do too, but I am a little more on the chaotic side; my maid has to drop by every day after I leave for training.”

Otabek wondered just how much of a mess one person could create in such a short length of time. Then again, he wasn’t surprised to hear it.

“You’re staring again,” Yuri said.

Otabek couldn’t help himself; he wanted Yuri to be flustered. He hadn’t made any promises of restraint. If anything, Yuri was stepping into his territory.

“I like looking at you,” Otabek said simply.

It was a simple, obvious statement. Yuri knew this surely. Yet the reaction he got left Otabek with not as much as a hint of regret.

“Please, take a seat,” Otabek motioned towards the seat and Yuri snickered as he realized he’d been in this kind of situation before.

Otabek paused for a moment. He had to take it in; Yuri sitting in his work chair. Several images flashed through his head then. One of Yuri’s legs spread apart as he devoured him seemed to imprint in his mind as he was having issues formulating any form of sentence. Yuri gazing up at him didn’t help. He seemed flustered as well. Yuri was not stupid. He knew what this sort of thing could potentially doing to a man who’d confessed to wanting to make him orgasm with his entire being.

Otabek finally regained some composure when a flash of lighting seared through the darkness and the light boom of a storm was heard.

“I saw that on my way here,” Yuri said suddenly looking away. “It’s going to get ugly.”

“Mhm,” was all Otabek said in response.

Yuri spinned around again. His legs were spread now. Even though he was wearing loose sweatpants, Otabek could still see the outline of Yuri’s dick. He was excited, but he seemed to be in that state whenever they met. Otabek had triggered him, but he wasn’t driven to the edge yet.

_Yet._

What was he thinking, Otabek wondered. If he was to ask, he wondered what Yuri would answer.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?” Yuri asked suddenly.

Otabek nodded and Yuri leaned forward.

“There’s a song of yours I found online. I believe it’s called Reverie. Do you mind playing it?”

Otabek knew exactly what song Yuri was talking about. It was one of his first ones. He was surprised Yuri had taken the trouble to go that far into his research of him. Then again, Yuri seemed thorough enough. So why wouldn’t he?

Otabek walked to one of his laptops, his thigh brushing against Yuri’s knees in the process. Yuri shivered, but hid it almost too well. Otabek dug through several playlists till he found what he was looking for, and then with one click, the room resounded with the familiar song.

He went to close the door and when he turned to look at Yuri again, he liked what he saw. Yuri was still sitting with his leg spread, but his eyes were shut and his fingers were grasping at the extra fabric on his thighs, balling it into his tight fist.

Otabek walked closer, slowly dissipating the distance. He stood there, looking, observing. The base was shaking the floor and Otabek was almost jealous of the attention Yuri was giving to his song.

Yuri let out a small whimper and opened his eyes. He knew if he said anything he wouldn’t be heard. And what did he want to say. You’re too close? That was a lie. There wasn’t an inch of Otabek that Yuri didn’t want nearby. If he reached out right now, he had a feeling that Otabek would misunderstand his intention of coming here. But when they were together, things had a habit of boiling down to one thing.

Yuri opened his mouth to say something, but he knew he wouldn’t be heard. He thought it over in his head and figured that Otabek could probably read his lips anyway.

So he mouthed what he was going to say.

Otabek’s response was rewarding. He put both of his hands on either of his head, grabbing at the leader and pushing him and the chair against the table until they couldn’t escape.

He leaned in closer, the music drowning the itching of his breath. It was a delight to have him this close. If only he could be closer.

As if he could read minds, Otabek leaned closer and closer until his lips were pressed against Yuri’s ear.

“I want you too, Yuri Plisetsky.”

Again, the response was instant and painful. The blood rushing to Yuri’s dick felt like it was burning the flesh surrounding it. There was no contact between them aside from Otabek’s lips still pressed against his ear. When he took them away, Yuri let out a quiet moan and tried to cross his legs but Otabek stuck a his right leg between his.

Yuri looked up and Otabek shook his head at him. The music was still playing and Yuri was getting warmer by the minute. He couldn’t think of anything hotter right now than Otabek standing in front of him, exposing him with just a leg between his own. He didn’t dare think what seeing him naked would do. Maybe he would die. That wouldn’t be so terrible.

A new song started playing then. It wasn’t one Yuri had heard before and he took the opportunity to be distracted and listen. He tried to look away but Otabek’s hand reached for his face and grabbing his chin, he turned Yuri’s face towards him.

“What?” he mouthed.

Otabek couldn’t help but be amused. This man really, what was he thinking. Saying things like that under his own roof. Still, Otabek was determined not to make him uncomfortable, to make him choose. Yuri Plisetsky was not someone he ever wanted to hurt. So he knelt between his legs, his fingers tracing up his thigh.

Yuri practically jolted under his touch. His face was burning red and he tried to cover it but again, Otabek wouldn’t have it.

“Watch closely,” he mouthed

He then proceeded to kiss the inside of Yuri’s thighs. Slowly and softly. Each kiss seemed to bring countless bounds of pleasure as he felt Yuri tremble under his touch. It was not something he’d thought possible; ejaculating just with the touch of someone’s hand. But Otabek’s hands were kneading into his skin, rubbing in small circles, inching closer and closer to Yuri’s dick… only to quickly return to as far as his knee sometimes.

Yuri had never regretted not showering as much before.

The beat suddenly picked up and all of the sudden Otabek’s mouth was skimming against the seams of his crotch. Yuri’s hips shot forward, knocking slightly into Otabek’s chin. A quick moan escaped his lips and he grabbed at the leather chair, desperate to hang on to anything before he fell into the abyss of pleasure. Otabek grabbed one of his arms and guided it to his own shoulder. Yuri shut his eyes in surrender and proceeded to hold on to Otabek’s shoulder as his tongue finally darted out, proceeding to make a mess out of Yuri’s already slightly damp crotch.

It was so blissful. The music, Otabek’s mouth, Yuri’s gentle gasps and moan. Otabek thought it’d be so easy to break him. When he looked up from between his legs as he sucked the hardest on the tip of Yuri’s clothed erection, he knew that this was the final moment. Yuri convulsed against him and came into his pants. Otabek kept sucking, tasting Yuri’s sweat and sperm desperately, as if it was the holy grail. Yuri kept moaning and shivering until he tapped on Otabek’s shoulder softly, asking him to stop.

Otabek retreated and stood, his knees were throbbing. As well as his dick. Yuri’s entire body shivered all over at the sight. He was still panting, and he had slumped so low, half his ass was off the seat, but he didn’t seem to notice. Quickly, he took he pulled his black shirt up and circled Otabek’s legs with one of his own.

It was obvious what Yuri wanted. No, he was literally begging. Otabek was almost near climax, his dick throbbing against his pants, begging for any type of friction. Still, Otabek remained there, staring down at the beautiful sight in front of him. Yuri’s chest was perfect and fit. He wanted to cover it in his own cum, and he knew Yuri wanted it too.

Yuri decided to push Otabek over the edge and he undid his hair, letting it fall messily and cling to his sweaty face.

It was enough of an argument; Otabek unbuttoned and unzipped his pants until dick nearly sprung out of its prison. Yuri’s whole body convulsed again. He licked his lips and Otabek groaned. Quickly, he started pumping himself, almost impatient to join Yuri in his state of blissful contentment.

It didn’t take him long. He came all over Yuri’s chest, painting his truth on his chest. Bucking into his hand as he emptied himself. Yuri was obviously happy about the result as he swiped a droplet with his finger and finally tasted him.

He smiled. Otabek was delicious.

Otabek was reluctant to end this moment, but there was no way they could both remain like this for the remainder of the evening. He tucked himself in as he watched Yuri lick him clean off his chest with his fingers and mouth. If Otabek wasn’t terrified in that instant, the sight would’ve driven him mad.

Finally, Yuri straightened up and whined that his back was killing him. Otabek helped him up and realized he’d never be able to sit in this chair again without getting excited. Yuri pressed himself against him into what turned out to be a hug. The music was still playing, and outside the storm was raging. Otabek started playing with Yuri’s hair without noticing and Yuri gasped at the touch but kept his arms loosely hanging around Otabek.

He felt sticky and gross, but he wouldn’t trade this moment for any gold metal. After all the songs on the playlist had played, the room went silent but Otabek’s fingers kept gently raking through Yuri’s hair.

“So,” Yuri said, finally breaking the silence. He looked up at Otabek with a satisfied grin on his face. “Have I given you enough material?”


	7. Different Is Nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was summoned to work over the past few days. Also had a bottle of rose and it did not serve my emotions well. It's a good thing I don't do that sort of thing often. Anyway, here's a chapter. Sorry to keep you all waiting.

Thursday morning came faster than what either of them needed. They’d fallen asleep somehow, after crawling into bed in the early hours. After that moment, Otabek had insisted Yuri should shower and after lending him some clothes, he found he couldn’t send him home at all. So they worked on the song right away. It was difficult, yet easy. Yuri kept physical contact with him at all time. If he didn’t have an arm pressed against Otabek’s he would grab on as discreetly as possible to the back of his shirt.

Otabek caught him once and Yuri didn’t even bother hiding it. He simply smiled in that oversized hoodie and kept his fingers tightly wound around the fabric.

He looked so happy. Otabek realized this was almost as good as watching Yuri orgasm. He could get used to this kind of thing. He wanted to kiss him. But things would probably get out of hand again. So he hung tight to what little common sense he had left, and kept working.

It was 2AM when he realized that Yuri had fallen asleep, leaning against him. Otabek rubbed Yuri’s cheek with his thumb until he was coherent enough.

“Do you want to stay over?” Otabek asked, his hand still on Yuri’s face.

Yuri blinked slowly, processing what Otabek was asking. But he was so tired that he didn’t think very hard and just went back to leaning against Otabek.

Yuri was heavier than Otabek anticipated. Dancers really were nothing but grace and muscle. Although in Yuri’s case, he also had a fair amount of personality weighing him down. Otabek laid him down on his twin bed and headed for the showers.

When he came back with nothing but a towel around his waist, he was surprised to find Yuri somewhat awake.

“Hey,” Yuri said, his voice raw.

“Hey,” Otabek answered walking closer to the bed and sliding a hand on Yuri’s forehead. He couldn’t help it at this point; touching Yuri like this felt natural. He didn’t know how to stop.

“Why are you up?” he asked.

“Hmm,” Yuri shut his eyes momentarily. “I had short nightmare.”

Otabek’s hand trailed up into Yuri’s hair until he was gently weaving his fingers through it again in a comforting gesture.

“You’re very naked,” Yuri commented after a while.

“Mhm,” Otabek answered.

“You gotta show me one of these days,” Yuri rolled away on his side. “Maybe when I don’t have practice in four hours.”

“Sure,” Otabek said. Then he went to stand in front of his dresser and he put on some boxers and a t-shirt.

He was about to head out when Yuri asked where he was going.

“This is your apartment; don’t kick yourself out of your own room.”

Otabek hesitated. He’d thought about this kind of situation before. Lying down next to Yuri Plisetsky… it was something dreams were made of. Not that he would ever tell him that. Otabek sighed and slid inside next to him. Yuri gasped a little as Otabek’s legs knocked against his own. He was still warm. Yuri wondered briefly if it was normal for someone to be this warm all the time. But at the same time, was it truly normal for him to have cold hands and feet all the time?

Otabek fell asleep almost instantly. Yuri couldn’t settle for some time. His heart was going crazy despite his obvious tiredness. It was not something he could control. He didn’t exactly relish the idea of feeling this way while lying down next to a man who’d just… sucked him into orgasm hours earlier. But he couldn’t afford to think of that right now. He had practice in the morning. And by god, Yakov was going to be ok with seeing him come in with baggier clothes.

He wasn’t. But the thing that bothered Yakov most was the chauffeur confiding that he’d seen a couple of people take pictures as Yuri left Otabek’s place in the morning.

“I don’t mind that,” Yuri said. “How does it affect my dancing?” Yuri did another flawless flip and Yakov groaned.

“Who were you with anyway?”

Yuri turned away and did a split. “I was getting my music ready for the program.”

“Downtown?”

“DJ Altin lives downtown,” Yuri added leaning forward on his right leg and adding pressure until it hurt.

“You are friends with DJ Altin?” Yakov asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Yuri said.

“Uh,” Yakov rubbed his chin like he usually did when troubled.

Yuri didn’t have friends. He wasn’t the type who made friends. So why, all of the sudden, was he making friends with someone who created music.

Yakov looked down at his  student and then shrugged. Maybe this wasn’t something to worry about. Yuri looked more determined than ever to win. What’s more, he looked particularly refreshed after that week he spent freaking out over the competition. Now that he had his music choice down, maybe he could get past it.

Yuri worked hard. Worked hard until Saturday morning where he walked in the nail salon and walked directly to Otabek’s workplace. Yuri’s heart almost stopped as he sat down. He thought he saw Otabek start to smile. He felt sure of it when he saw him push a cup of steaming coffee towards him.

“Hey,” he said.

Yuri held his breath. It was breathtaking to see Otabek this way. Revealing what he felt with just a simple small smile.

“Hi,” Yuri answered back.

“So,” Otabek took out the file from his drawer. “What can I do for you today?”

Yuri blushed and tried to hide it by taking a sip of coffee.

“I’ve worked hard this week,” he said. “I’m thinking I need a reward.”

Otabek’s eyebrow slightly raised. It was not noticeable to anyone else, but Yuri could tell.

“What did you have in mind?” Otabek took a sip of his own coffee and Yuri noticed it was the first time he’d seen him drink coffee around him.

“You drink coffee?” Yuri asked.

“I haven’t been getting enough sleep,” he said.

Yuri groaned, “I thought you said you had the magic remedy to that.”

“I do, but I also wanted to finish your song as soon as possible.” Otabek outstretched his hand towards him. “May I?”

Yuri gave him his hand and Otabek observed his work closely. “Your nails really do grow fast.”

“I don’t want to get rid of this one,” Yuri mumbled.

“Well it’s good for another week, two more max.” Otabek said, still focused on Yuri’s hand.

“I still wish you wouldn’t take it off,” Yuri admitted.

Otabek looked up and into his eyes again. “I’ll make better ones.” Yuri said. “Of course, I didn’t think you’d be the guy who’d want regular nail polishing. Isn’t anyone looking at your nails on a day to day basis?”

Yuri shook his head, “Yakov is too distracted by my dancing and well…” He put his fingers around Otabek’s wrist and squeezed a little. “You’re the only person I hang out with.”

“Your family isn’t in the area?” Otabek said taking in how cute Yuri was being in that moment.

“It’s just…” Yuri slumped down, resting his head against the table. “I’ve always been alone. I’m used to it.”

Otabek’s heart ached just then. It was troubling to see him in such a state; vulnerable. He wanted to hug him. He would have if they weren’t at work.

“You’re very brave,” Otabek said. “I have my mother, my schoolmates, but I didn’t realize I was the only one in your life.”

Yuri chuckled, straightening up. “Look at you, talking about us like we’re an item.”

Otabek looked down at their joined hands. “I suppose I am getting ahead of myself.”

“What?! No! I mean…” Yuri took another sip of his coffee again and burned his tongue.

“You’re adorable when you blush,” Otabek stated. He leaned forward, weaving his fingers through Yuri’s. “I don’t want to trouble you. I am fine with covering your chest with my seed any time you want.”

Yuri groaned as he felt himself getting hard again. “How am I supposed to get a pedicure when you make me hard.”

Otabek let go of his hand and wrote that information down on his sheet. “You want me to wax your legs? Might turn you off a bit.”

Yuri chuckled, “No, thank you.”

“I mean it though,” Otabek said putting the sheet of paper away. “I am a patient man.”

“I know,” Yuri said. “I sometimes wish you weren’t though.”

Otabek looked up and there was something in his eyes then that Yuri was starting to recognize. 

“Please follow me,” he said getting up.

“Yes,” Yuri said getting up. He was still hard, but he’d taken precautions, wearing loose pants and a dress shirt tied around his waist.

“You said you were working on my song?” Yuri asked once he was settled in the chair. He watched Otabek fill up the foot tub with warm water. His fingers burned as he took off Yuri’s shoes and socks, sliding against his legs and feet with wet fingers. This wasn’t helping his situation. But he figured he was done for. He was trapped. Otabek had him under his spell.

“I was. It was hard to settle for just the one.” Otabek said setting Yuri’s feet into the tub one by one.

Yuri chuckled, “did you end up making a whole album about me?”

“It’s a decent playlist,” Otabek said calmly as he started working on the washing. “Is the water warm enough?”

“It’s fine,” Yuri answered. “How did you end up making so much?”

Otabek was quiet for some time, rubbing and stretching Yuri’s skin. It felt good. After a week of intense training, getting a treatment like this felt extremely good.

“There’s no way I can limit myself to just the one song when it comes to you.”

Yuri smiled. “Is that why you didn’t text?”

Otabek shook his head, “there’s lots of reasons.”

“Name one,” Yuri ordered.

Otabek finally looked up and once again his unwavering gaze stared steadily into Yuri’s.

“Talking to you makes me want to see you,” Otabek said, his tone flat as usual.

Yuri was burning up. He thought the water would start boiling from the heat he was emitting.

“You…” he said. “I really want you to kiss me.”

He admitted. He’d missed him. It was hard not to considering the impact he had on him and his body. Even his dancing. There was something about Otabek that sang to Yuri. Now that he was starting to understand the song, he was getting addicted.

Otabek’s fingers stopped moving momentarily until he proceeded to wipe Yuri’s feet dry. “I know you do. You have been looking at me that way for a while now.”

“Why don’t you do it?” Yuri asked.

“Opportunity,” Otabek said simply.

“I was at your place, and you didn’t kiss me.” Yuri accused.

Otabek grabbed a pumice stone and started rubbing hard. “You weren’t there to be kissed. You were there to work.”

“But… you…” Yuri mumbled.

“Hm?” Otabek looked up then. He was curious, but he felt like it was some sort of dare. You won’t say it will you?

_ How can I?  _

He couldn’t say it. Otherwise he’d end up wanting it even more. Plus the chairs next to his were filling up with women and girls of every age. This wasn’t the time of place. Yuri slumped lower into the seat and then kept quiet for the rest of the treatment.

Yuri closed his eyes and almost fell asleep until Otabek tapped his shoulder. Yuri blinked sleepily and watched Otabek put his shoes back on with such care it was maddening.

He helped him up and then let go. It hurt somehow.

“Do you want to meet up after I’m done?” Otabek asked.

Yuri almost immediately let out a sigh of relief, “yes. Please.”

Otabek nodded and then offered to shake his hand. It wasn’t a necessary gesture, but Yuri still couldn’t pass up an opportunity to touch him.

“I’ll text you,” Otabek said. He gave Yuri one last squeeze and released it. Just then his mother walked over.

“Oh, Mr. Plisetsky. How are you doing? Is my boy giving you any trouble?”

Yuri didn’t know how to answer that without being sarcastic so he just chuckled uncomfortably.

“I see you’re quite a fan of our pedicures. Have you tried our manicures yet?”

“Ah…” Yuri hesitated to show her his nails. But then again, shouldn’t she be proud of her son’s work.

That’s right. This was Otabek’s mom. It was hard to remember such an obvious detail. The dark hair and eyes definitely came from her, but the features were probably his father’s.

He showed her his hands and Carol’s eyes widened. “My word, Mr. Plisetsky, you have good taste.”

Yuri chuckled, he glanced over at Otabek. “Yeah, I do.”

Otabek glanced back and Carol, oblivious, kept on talking about how sometimes it was hard to keep the ladies away from Otabek’s workplace. Sometimes, Otabek’s condition wasn’t good for business, but since Yuri had showed up, a lot more men seemed interested in getting manicures.

“His schedule is packed,” she said.

“What condition?” Yuri asked confused.

“Ah, Otabek doesn’t want to work with ladies. He says it… complicates things.”

Yuri wanted to laugh. This was kind of ironic. But then, it all was wasn’t it? After making a few more polite comments, Yuri was led to the front desk where he paid again in advance.

“Thank you for your business!”

As soon as he walked out the door, Yuri’s phone beeped.

**Otabek:** Go round back.

Yuri was confused at first, but then he saw a small hallway that led behind the building. Intrigued he followed the instructions and saw that behind the building was a picnic table where people probably ate in warm weather. It was deserted though so Yuri took a seat at the table and texted his chauffeur to pick him up in fifteen minutes.

Soon, there was the sound of a door opening and Otabek came out from behind the metal door.

“Ah,” he said. “Come here.” 

He looked flustered. More than usual. While Yuri didn’t know why specifically, he obeyed wordlessly. Otabek grabbed his arm as soon as he was within reach and shut the door behind him and pulled them both against the door. Otabek hugged him tight, refusing to let go for quite some time until suddenly he pushed Yuri away and slammed him against the door. Yuri winced but he ignored the pain because the anticipation was more exciting than any form of pain he was made to endure.

Otabek put both his hands on either side of Yuri’s head and pressed himself against Yuri’s body. His eyes were dark and full of lust. Yuri couldn’t stop trembling and he licked his lips, awaiting. This was a bit different than being patient. This was not the usual Otabek. This was pure anarchy. Chaos. Otabek was not listening to reason. He was just giving in, giving in to the need to kiss him. This time it was him traversing the breach. Him fulfilling their long endured fantasy.

They remained still for a while, gazing. Until finally and suddenly, as Yuri bit his own lip for the last time, Otabek met him halfway devoured his soul.


	8. But It Sure Isn't Pretty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wave* Good morning to my readers. (I'm not kidding, most of you that leave comments do it during the night so I'm assuming you're all in Europe or something.) Here is a chapter. I would also like to wish all the women reading this a happy international women's day. Please take extra care of yourselves today and have some wine for me.
> 
> Also if any of you guys would like to join my discord, please feel free to do so. https://discord.gg/B8AKqDx It's mostly a server I used to play league with friends, but it can honestly be whatever I need it to be. It's discord. If a Otayuri flood takes over, I would not mind in the slightest.

It was hard to breathe. It usually is when someone has their mouths against yours. But this was something else. Yuri had been kissed before, but he’d never wanted to be kissed so deeply that he thought his own face was in the way. Breathing was a luxury neither of them could afford. But it was so good, like everything else so far. Otabek’s lips were soft and he loved his tongue inside his mouth. It was all so unexpectedly better than what he even managed.

It was also the hands. They were everywhere. Around his wrists, pulling his arms above his head and then leaving them there. Trailing down his sides, then underneath his shirt, up the back.

Yuri heard the short, brief honk of a car over their kissing and suddenly pushed himself off of Otabek. 

“I… I have to get  going,” Yuri breathed.

Otabek nodded and grabbed both Yuri’s wrists again and laid then back to his side. “I’ll text you.”

Yuri nodded and was too embarrassed to look up again. He heard the sound of the door opening and closing and then he realized he was alone. Yuri straightened up his hair and clothes and walked back to the front where the car was waiting for him.

Quietly, he walked inside and took his phone out to check the time. He’d only kept him waiting five minutes.

“Everything all right, Mr. Plisetsky?” 

“Yes, thank you.” Yuri mumbled.

“You look rather flushed, did you catch a fever?”

“No. Please take me home.” Yuri said.

His lips were swollen and his eyes were glimmering. If anything, he looked very suspicious. But the chauffeur chose to ignore it.

Yuri folded his hands together and noticed he was still shaking. Yuri heard them again; the whispers of Otabek saying his name between kisses, like a prayer. Or a spell.

Yuri jumped into the shower as soon as he got home. He’d taken one in the morning, but he needed to calm down. This wasn’t fair. Otabek got to be all normal at work and here he was, taking a cold shower.

_ It wasn’t fair.  _

Why was he crying? He got out when he started sneezing. Wrapping himself in a towel, he walked out in a daze, grabbing his phone on instinct. He laid down on his bed for a whole minute before he checked it.

There were some emails. But most importantly Otabek had texted three times.

**Otabek:** Are you all right?

**...:** Text me when you get home.

**...:** Do you like cats?

There was the picture of a cat and someone’s shoe which Yuri recognized to be Otabek’s. Oh, so there was a cat in the salon. Otabek was sending pictures of a cat to make him feel better.

Yuri moaned and buried his face in the sheets again. He didn’t have a twin bed. His was kingsized. This apartment was built for two in every possible way; there were two sinks in the bathroom, two wardrobes in the bedroom and enough storage space for a family of three. But Yuri’s place was mostly empty aside from the impressive amount of shoes. Yuri spent a lot of his free time shopping for them. It’s a good thing he had a taste for brands, because they liked the publicity. Yuri was told to embrace his ambidexterity to the fullest when he began competing. Now, even some men were drawn to him. Asking for his number in hushed conversations. Yuri also had a ton of fangirls, but only two or three really ever got close enough to cause trouble.

All in all, Yuri was popular. But it was not the sort of attention he wanted. Yuri wasn’t dancing for them.

_ I do this for me. _

That was the phrase he whispered over and over during any competition. And it paid off. Yuri was renowned worldwide and a lot of theatre production teams wrote emails asking if he’d be interested to join their crew for the summer. The sums were massive and impressive… but Yuri had always wanted to work solo. The idea of constantly having to look behind one’s back was tiring. If you only had the man in the mirror to fight, wasn’t it enough?

_It always had been_.

Yuri sighed and texted an answer. Then he slipped in his pajamas and grabbed his laptop. He had a need for shoes.

His phone buzzed again.

**Otabek:** Do you still want to meet?

Yuri frowned and typed back so furiously he had to rewrite the sentence a couple of times because of all the typos.

**Yuri:** Of course, idiot.

**Otabek:** Where?

Yuri poutted and reflected on it for a while.

**Yuri:** You can come over to my place.

**Otabek:** I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.

**Yuri:** Good.

Yuri wasn’t about to admit that he was scared. Yet he thought that Otabek would probably be the first to understand. Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Otabek might make fun of him. He never had this far. But, what if?

Yuri spent way too much, as usual, and then ordered himself some food. He bought extras for Otabek just in case and then decided that it was as good a time as any to watch some more anime. 

There was a knock on the door and Yuri was almost forgetting about their agreement. He hadn’t heard him text… and he didn’t know where he lived, right?

Yuri was wary. This wasn’t the first time this sort of situation had presented itself. Sometimes, some overzealous fan got past security and came knocking on his door. He looked through the peephole and saw that he was mostly right. Except that it wasn’t a crazy fan, just some girl who also trained under Yakov.

Yuri sighed and opened the door. “What?”

“Still as welcoming,” Mila Babicheva said cheerfully. “Even though I came all this way on my own. The men around these parts sure know fine when they see it.”

Yuri lifted an eyebrow and eyed her up and down. It’s true she was not an ugly woman, but she had an annoying personality.

“Why are you at my place?” Yuri said, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

Mila smirked, “I’m sorry to bother you in your downtime, but I was wondering if you could let me know how to contact DJ Altin. Yakov mentioned he agreed to work with you, and I figured I might also give it a shot.”

She winked at him and Yuri felt profoundly disgusted. Why were women always this cunning.

“No,” he slammed the door in her face and left her out there to rot. Just then his phone buzzed and his mood lifted.

**Otabek:** Where do you live?

Yuri was just about to let him know when a thought occurred to him. Mila was still furiously banging on his door. Granted, security would interfere soon but what if she was still there when Otabek came over?

Yuri decided to chance it, assuming Otabek would not drive like a maniac to be at his place.

He underestimated him. His phone buzzed way too soon and as the lobby clerk was letting him know that a Mr. Altin was coming to see him, he could still hear Mila knocking constantly on the door. Not loudly enough to bother anyone else but him.

Yuri sighed into the phone and said to let him in. How did Mila even make it this far without getting caught. Must have been something about him being his sister or girlfriend. Yuri growled.

_ Women. _

Soon enough Mila’s knocking stopped and he figured that she was talking to him. Yuri couldn’t help himself, he peeped through the hall. He saw them conversing. She was going at it, using all of her assets and charms to win him over. Otabek’s ability to not betray his emotions had never been so satisfying to watch. He couldn’t tell what he was saying, but whatever he said came as a disappointment to Mila who let her head fall down and she looked like she was going to cry. Yuri couldn’t bear it anymore and banged his fist on the door and let himself slump down the door.

He was shaking, but not out of nervousness this time. No, Yuri was just angry. He recognized the reason behind it, and he hated himself for feeling it.

Just as Yuri was about to get up and hide somewhere in his own apartment, there was a small knock on the door. Yuri opened it without a second thought and found Otabek standing there, with his helmet lodged under his arm. His hair was tousled from the ride and he looked… 

Well he looked like a guy who’d kissed him hours ago. 

“Can I come in?” Otabek asked.

Yuri realized he was still blocking the way so he quickly made room for him. He also took the opportunity to peek outside.

“She’s gone. I made sure she left before I knocked.” Otabek said taking his shoes off.

“Really,” Yuri said shutting the door quickly. “What did you tell her?”

“The truth; I don’t have time.” Otabek turned around then and took in Yuri’s relaxed appearance. “I didn’t know you wore spectacles.”

“Ah!” Yuri forgot all about them. “Only when I’m on the computer.”

“They suit you,” Otabek said remaining impossibly still. 

Yuri knew why he was being this way. This was his territory. This was his safe space, his free time. This is where Yuri unwinded. Otabek looked around and even though it all looked empty, he thought it was all very Yuri. From the colorful drapes, to the tiger posters.

“Ah, I ordered some food.” Yuri said walking past him. “You must be hungry.”

Otabek followed him into the kitchen. “It’s a nice place you have here.” He said quietly.

“Mhm,” Yuri was digging into the fridge and his hands were trembling again. Guess he was back to being a nervous wreck for very obvious reasons.

He told Otabek to sit down and he silently obeyed. Yuri set the food in front of him and then, just as he was about to dig in, Otabek tapped the seat next to him.

Yuri’s insides felt like they were melting and he sat down. Really, what was this man made of that he could tell exactly what Yuri needed in the precise moment.

“How was work?” Yuri asked trying to sound casual. He brought his knees up against his chest and leaned on them.

Otabek chewed enthusiastically. He probably was starving. He hadn’t even taken the time to eat before he got here. Yuri squeezed his knees tighter.

“It was good,” Otabek said. He took a swig out of the water bottle Yuri had put in front of him. “I had a lot more nail polish orders. I think you’re setting a trend. I just wonder how they find out about this stuff.”

“Probably my fans,” Yuri said. “I can’t control what they see, they always, somehow seem to sneak past security while I’m out and about.”

“Do you have a lot of male fans?” Otabek asked.

“Not that I know of,” Yuri chuckled.

Unconsciously, he grabbed Otabek’s water bottle and took a sip himself. He was halfway through chugging when he realized it was an indirect kiss. He set it down immediately and Otabek slightly raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sorry, force of habit.” He explained. “Water bottles are usually set out for me to use.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Otabek said resuming his chewing.

“So what do you want to do?” Yuri asked after a while.

“Hm,” Otabek said as he finished the last few bites of his meal. “This is your place, shouldn’t you decide?”

Yuri thought about what Otabek had mentioned earlier during the day. How he hadn’t slept much in the last couple of days. It was probably one of the reasons behind the lapse of judgement from this afternoon. Yuri scratched his head and said he was currently going through a series. Otabek responded by saying he’d always wanted to watch it but never had had the time.

“I tend to fall asleep when I watch movies though,” Otabek said finishing the water bottle.

“Really? Have you fallen asleep at the movies before?” Yuri asked amused.

“Yes, my mom won’t take me anymore.

Yuri laughed then. A genuine laugh that Otabek had had yet to hear. It was adorable and captivating. Otabek smiled in response and Yuri gasped when he noticed.

“I want to touch you,” Otabek stated. He reached out a hand and touched Yuri’s left cheek. “Can I hug you?”

Yuri nodded and stood and Otabek followed suit and opening his arms, Yuri peacefully settled between them.

Otabek’s heart was beating like crazy, but the rest of his body wasn’t betraying him.

“Were you watching us?” Otabek suddenly asked.

“Uh?” Yuri tried to sound confused, but he knew exactly what Otabek was referring to.

“Earlier, when I was talking to Ms. Babicheva.”

Yuri squeezed Otabek tighter and buried his face inside his chest. “What if I was? She is so annoying.”

“No, it’s just,” Otabek explained. “I could almost sense you raging on the other side of that door. Plus there was that loud bang….”

“Ah! Enough!” Yuri broke free of Otabek’s hold and walked out of the kitchen. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not,” Otabek said following him. “I’m just glad you felt that way.”

Yuri paused in his trails and looked back at him. “What way?”

“Were you jealous?”

Yuri’s face started steaming almost instantly. “I WAS NOT!”

Otabek’s ears almost rang with the strident sound of Yuri’s voice. He saw him pant from exertion and he sighed, reaching out to slide his fingers through Yuri’s hair. Yuri’s mood instantly improved as he once more was reduced to a puddle of emotions. Really, how did Otabek do it? How did he always know exactly how to deal with him.

Yuri felt it then. What Otabek was trying to confide. There wasn’t anyone else he thought pretty, or desirable in this moment. Just him. Just Yuri. Otabek’s whole world was Yuri right now. Yuri snorted and looked down in defeat. Otabek was still caressing his hair as he started to feel like he was going to cry.

“Do you still want to watch that show?”

Yuri nodded, and Otabek kept on soothing him with his hand and words.

“Do you also want to do it while we’re cuddling in bed?”

Again, Yuri silently nodded in response.

“Do you want me to sleep over?”

Yuri took a while before he finally admitted to it. But he looked up when he made up his mind and said. “Yes. I don’t want you to go.”

It was Otabek’s turn to nod as he took off his jacket and set it on one of Yuri’s leather couches. “All right, please don’t be mad if I fall asleep on you.”

Yuri snorted. “I won’t. You’re tired, idiot. It’s only natural.”

Yuri took Otabek’s hand and led him to the bedroom.


	9. Graceful Men Lift Pretty Ones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I got caught up in other things and well. Here is a chapter. Hope yall are warm and cozy.

Otabek was good at a lot of things, but he truly did suck at watching movies. He had this disinterested look on his face, like he couldn’t be bothered to keep watching. However, whenever a sound track was heard, or when there was a particular sound queue… he perked up.

Yuri could tell that he was fighting hard to stay awake. He almost wished he would, judging by  the week he’d had.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Yuri whispered sometime between the ending and opening credits.

Otabek looked at him curiously. Yuri couldn’t help but blush. There was something about them both sitting up cozily in his bed that messed with his confidence.

“Don’t screw your sleep schedule for me,” Yuri said. “What am I going to do if you fail your classes?”

“I don’t need a lot of sleep to function,” Otabek replied.

Just then Netflix asked them if they were still watching and Yuri hesitated, peering at the clock. It was around 9:30. It wasn’t that late, but it wasn’t that early either. His heart ached suddenly as he thought of the possibility that Otabek might want to leave after.

He heard shifting sounds next to him and glanced briefly. Otabek had snuck down under the covers and Yuri’s heart skipped a beat.

_ Nothing about me is threatening to him. _

Yuri remembered his trainee days, where he had to watch for tacks in his dance shoes. Ever since he’d been born, Yuri Plisetsky had set the bar high not only for himself, but for his surroundings. That always caused his entourage to be a little wary of him. Seeing as Yuri was prone to spurts of all sorts on the emotional side, his company mostly consisted of competition as friends didn’t stick it out with him past high school. 

_ Keep your friends close, and enemies closer. _

That’s a motto Yuri firmly believed in. Still, as he started excelling, competition started spreading elsewhere, in other countries, and so Yuri mostly found himself alone. Until Otabek.

Yuri weaved a trembling hand through Otabek’s hair and then shut down the laptop. Putting it away, he settled down next to the man next to him. He could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Good night,” Yuri said. Then he rolled over and buried himself under the covers.

“Yuri,” Otabek was whispering. It wasn’t something Yuri was used to and it caused heat to rush between his legs. Ashamed of his own body, he barely mumbled a reply.

“Can we snuggle?” Otabek asked.

Always asking permission. There were definitely more chances of Yuri dying by Otabek than being  run over by a bus.

Yuri agreed somehow and felt Otabek’s chest press firmly against his back. Yuri covered his mouth when he felt Otabek’s hard on press against the small of his back. He swallowed back waves upon waves of desire as he felt Otabek relax with his arm around his waist until finally his breathing slowed and he was obviously sound asleep.

Yuri let out a breath and started counting until finally he lost his place in the universe and tumbled into sleep.

When he woke up, Otabek was already up using the shower. Yuri wondered what Otabek did on Sundays. He sounded like the kind of guy who kept busy until asked otherwise. He could’ve worked Sundays as well. So why wasn’t he off already?

Otabek came out with a towel around his waist. Yuri felt a strange sense of deja vue as he glanced at that happy trail.

“Good morning,” Otabek said approaching the bed.

He slid the back of his hand against Yuri’s cheek and Yuri shivered at the coldness of his skin. Shouldn’t he have been taking a warm shower? Unless…

For some reason, Yuri found himself blatantly looking at Otabek’s crotch.

“Did you… in my shower?” Yuri said in the smallest voice Otabek had yet heard.

“Twice,” Otabek answered clearly.

Yuri looked up and even though Otabek was only wearing a towel, he felt the most naked of them all.

“Idiot,” Yuri said, not breaking eye contact.

He knew he was bright red, but he didn’t care. Because the man in front of him had just orgasmed twice because of him. Yuri kneeled on his bed, sliding both his arms around Otabek’s neck and squeezing tight.

“Why are you wasting loads like that… when I’m right next door?”

Otabek reached into Yuri’s hair and pulled at it until Yuri leaned back, looking into his eyes once more.

“You think I didn’t think about that?” He tugged gently again, causing Yuri to moan. “As I live and breathe Yuri Plisetsky, you are on my mind all the time. If I take you as I wish I could, you wouldn’t be fit to train, ever.”

Otabek’s eyes were glistening with lust. It was a sin truly, to desire someone so much. Yuri felt it all the way to his bones, how completely and utterly he was under this man’s spell as well. He pressed his lips against Otabek who hungrily responded, picking him up into his arms almost instantly.

Otabek found the nearest wall and pressed Yuri against it, taking a minute to slide his shirt off. It was incredible, how slow every movement felt compared to the shape their desires were taking. It was all rushed and fierce, the clashing of teeth, the biting and the slight breaking of skin. Yuri’s lips were swollen by the time Otabek’s phone disturbed their peace and they had to break away, panting and gasping for air. Somewhere along the way, Otabek’s towel had slid off his hips and as he reached for his phone on the bedside table, holding a half naked man like it was nothing. Yuri couldn’t help but feel like he could cum without touching himself.

“Hello mother,” the words eased the tension and Otabek softly let Yuri slid down the wall back on his feet, using the weight of his own body pressing against him as support. Yuri was leaning into the curve of Otabek’s shoulder, recovering and barely listening to the conversation.

When he hung up, Otabek kissed Yuri’s neck in turn. “Can you stand on your own?”

“Hmm,” was all the Yuri said. He gnawed slightly at the skin without breaking it.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Otabek said. He started weaving his fingers through Yuri’s hair again as he kept biting and licking.

They stayed like that until Yuri felt ready, and when the time came Yuri couldn’t help but slide a hand down Otabek’s bare chest to his stomach. It was a joy to watch him shiver and twitch. He was stubborn… and probably had somewhere to go. 

“What did your mom want?” he said finally releasing his hold of him.

“She wants you to come over for brunch,” Otabek stated.

Yuri froze a bit and turned away, suddenly embarrassed. “Why?”

Otabek started looking for his clothes as he explained.

“She asked me over for brunch and I said I was with a friend so she said to bring you along.”

“Does your mom… just always get what she wants?” Yuri asked, feigning laughter.

Otabek raised an eyebrow as he looked at him and he watched Yuri physically come up with the answer. “Why else would you be working in her nail salon?”

“I also happen to enjoy it a lot lately,” Otabek said.

“Let me lend you some boxers,” Yuri insisted.

“Doubt they would fit me,” Otabek said.

“Then don’t get dressed,” Yuri exclaimed.

“Is this because you don’t want to meet my mom?”

“Technically, I already know her.” Yuri said, still refusing to look at him.

“Well, as the receptionist, but not as my mother.” Otabek stood there, still naked, crossing his arms.

“If you don’t want to come, it’s fine. This wasn’t meant to be a burden.”

“It’s not that,” Yuri said suddenly moving and raking through his underwear to find the largest ones. He threw a pair of unopened sponsor’s large and tossed it at him. “What are you going to introduce me as?”

Otabek caught the package flawlessly without taking his eyes off Yuri. “I did say you were a friend?”

“Oh,” the disappointment in Yuri’s voice was palpable. “Is that… is that all I am to you?”

Otabek held a finger up motioning for Yuri to wait as he slid his pants and shirt on. Once he was done, he bridged the gap between them and hugged Yuri tightly.

“I know you worry a lot, and despite all that we’ve gone through, I suppose there’s always been some sort of unspoken agreement between us to never name this. But,” he squeezed him harder. “You are definitely not just a friend. Whatever happens, I hope to get to know more about you.”

Yuri let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as soon as Otabek finished speaking. Otabek was holding on so tight, and he was trembling. He truly meant what he just said, and he didn’t plan to let go. Yuri suddenly felt like crying. But whatever liquid spilled from his eyes, he drowned into the fabric of Otabek’s shirt.

“What about you?” Otabek asked finally, releasing his bear hold on him. “What do you want?”

_ To win. _

But in this case, he didn’t have to. He’d already won. Yuri shook his head and laughed at the same time, covering his eyes to prevent more tears from falling.

“Can’t believe I’m dating my nail artist,” he said.

Otabek smiled then, and Yuri couldn’t help any more. He shed a few tears, which he quickly tried to wipe away. But hands only work so far. Otabek handed him the conveniently placed tissue box and waited patiently for him to blow his nose.

“You all right?” Otabek asked once Yuri had calmed down.

“Nuh,” Yuri said. “My heart is dying.”

Otabek put his hand against Yuri’s naked chest and felt it thump loudly against his own skin.

“Hm,” he said. “It’s a great rhythm.”

“You would know,” Yuri said taking Otabek’s hand and pressing his fingers against his lips. “You still owe me a playlist.”

“Hm,” Otabek said thoughtfully as he watched Yuri carefully.

“I will. But bear in mind,” Otabek slid in even closer and whispered. “I wrote it with bedding you in mind. So to honor the theme…” his hands slid down Yuri’s sides and then behind him to grab his ass. Yuri gasped. “I will have to fuck you till the last beat.”


End file.
